


Cryptozoology or “My Band Went On Hiatus and All I Got was this Lousy Porn Career”

by EmptyIceCreamContainer



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Additional Tags in Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Porn, Comedy, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Masturbation, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn, Porn Names, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soul Punk Era (Fall Out Boy), Vaginal Sex, alternate universe- adult film, but only on chapters where they apply, ethical porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22676434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptyIceCreamContainer/pseuds/EmptyIceCreamContainer
Summary: What if, during is wildly experimental and sexy Soul Punk era, Patrick took it to the extreme and tried porn?  Or, as he insists, "erotic art films."  How does he handle it, and will anyone figure out his double life?  A series of interconnected very, VERY smutty one-shots ensues.  It's somewhere exactly between "with" and "without" plot.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. The Solo Project

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to SerenitySpiral for the title, and to SerenitySpiral, SecretStudentDragonBlog, and elpinkerton for 1) reading this in the first place and 2) convincing me it was good enough to post!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick records a *solo* effort.

Sera had hated how stereotypical her story sounded: “drowning in student debt, local young lady goes into porn.” In an effort to get through this with as little potential damage to her future plans as possible, she’d done her research, and found what she judged was the best choice: a small indie upstart called Nervous Breakdance Studios. There were no complaints about poor wages or unfair treatment, and all of the female “performers” who had worked there gave glowing reviews.

Then there was the gorgeous “Mr. Sequoia”, the apparent owner of the studio and its male porn star. Fluffy bleached blonde hair, tight ass that looked great in suit trousers and even better out of them, ocean blue eyes, and lips made for sinning—he was legitimately _gorgeous_.

The only odd thing was that the application asked some very specific questions about what musical artists she enjoyed, but she brushed off the oddity. Probably some fancy “productivity optimization” BS that every employer used these days.

So when Sera showed up at the studio, she did her best to put on a confident face as she met with Mr. Sequoia— _Patrick_ , as he insisted she call him—to discuss all contract matters before getting down to _business_ , as it were.

Despite her efforts, he noticed something was wrong.

“Are you sure you really want to do this?” was his final question of the interview, genuine concern in his gaze as he looked at her. “Not doing anything for desperation reasons?” Sera couldn’t help but pause. She _very much_ would enjoy fucking the beautiful man in front of her, and was half a second from tearing his suit off immediately. It was more of the “having her naked self distributed for eternity afterwards” that was giving her second thoughts.

So, she was honest, and gave an even, succinct account for her reasons for being there, and her concerns. She had no idea what reaction to expect.

“Oh, that’s great!” he responded, to Sera’s surprise. For a split second she felt insulted, as if he was relieved to not have sex with her! “Wait, wait, that sounded bad!” he corrected, noticing her expression, and seeming quite flustered himself. “I’ve actually been overdue to record a well, _solo_ effort,” he managed to get out through some nervous sputtering, “And the bedroom setup for today’s shoot works just as well. And there’s actually another job I have for you around here too. That is, if you’re still okay with sticking around to see the, uh, actual action.”

That was how Sera found herself running around getting various snacks and a ton of water for the crew, as the new “supplies assistant” for the filming. Her job was also to distribute them to the crew throughout, as, given what Patrick had said, several of them had passed out or otherwise fallen into some sort of state while on the job, and he was starting to worry about them dehydrating or something. He absolutely couldn’t imagine any other reason they might be having issues—“It _has_ to be lack of calories or dehydration. I just know!”

An hour or so later, everything was almost ready to film. The cameras sat on stands surrounding the set, which was expertly dressed as a pleasantly generic bedroom with a plush-looking bed. Not distractingly bare, but clearly geared towards directing the attention to the people in the room rather than the décor. It had a wide array of luxurious pillows. Carefully placed lights filtering through a fake window perfectly simulated warm afternoon sun—the kind of gentle light that catches skin and hair to give them a lovely glow.

The crew actually seemed a little annoyed at Sera handing them water bottles and donuts.

“Hey, Mr. Sequoia insisted! He said you nearly passed out from dehydration last shoot!” A frustrated Sera shoved a bottle at a stubborn cameraman.

“It wasn’t dehydration…” the guy said, staring off into space for a moment. Finally, he accepted the extra water. “Missy… you don’t know what you’re in for.”

A hush fell over the set as Patrick arrived. The cameras rolled and filming began.

He was dressed in an immaculate suit—even nicer than the one from earlier—clearly designer, and tailored perfectly to him. He stepped through the door and into the bedroom with a casual, relaxed air, as if he was arriving home from work to relax. Slowly, he began to strip, seemingly nonchalant, gaze directed out the window, as if the audience and cameras were nonexistent. First went the coat, which he carefully put on the nearby coat rack. Unobstructed by the coat, she couldn’t help but notice how tightly the trousers hugged his cute peach-bottom ass. She mentally blessed the tailor responsible for those.

Turning around, he undid his tie, hands working and head tilting in a way that drew attention to his lovely neck, alabaster skin practically begging to be marked up by someone. He undid the top several buttons of his shirt, exposing delicate collar bones and a delicious tease of dark chest hair. She was so distracted by that initial flash of skin that she almost didn’t notice how well those trousers hugged his _front_ as well. Truly, she thought, that fit would be obscene if he were in any other profession.

He sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off his shoes and socks, and threw the tie aside. He leaned back, bracing himself up with one hand behind him, beautifully displaying himself. Brushing a flop of bleached hair out of his face with his free hand, he skimmed his fingers gently down his neck, ghosting over his collar bones, and eventually circled a prominent nipple through the thin fabric of the shirt. His eyes, baby-blue in the “sunlight”, held a dreamy look, clearly imagining some lucky person caressing him instead. His hand lingered only a moment before wandering further down, across his stomach and downward to his hips, to grasp the prominent bulge at his crotch. A moan escaped him—quickly stifled as he bit into his lower lip, pink and soft. He teased himself through the fabric, his actions having the added effect of displaying his cock even more clearly through the pants.

(This was where the first casualty occurred. A girl from the lighting department suddenly and conspicuously dashed off to the bathroom.)

He didn’t tease himself for long. Laying back on the pile of pillows, his hands returned to his shirt buttons, undoing them one by one—slowly, as if he wasn’t ruthlessly teasing a room full of people and an assortment of cameras. Reaching the final button, he tugged the shirt free of his trousers and opened it to reveal his chest and stomach, leaving the open shirt artfully draped around him rather than taking it off completely.

He was obviously hard now, the bulge at his crotch impossible to ignore. He undid his belt and threw it aside without much ceremony, before returning to his fantasy, running his hand down his stomach to dip into his waistband to tease at his cock again, gasping and hips giving an instinctive twitch as his fingers made contact with the sensitive head.

(One of the camera guys started absolutely _chugging_ his bottle of water, one hand holding on white-knuckle to the camera stand.)

Patrick made short work of the button and zipper on the suit trousers, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath as his erection sprang free. It was thick, long, and flushed at the tip with the same lovely pink as his lips. Sera shifted in her seat and crossed her legs; the gorgeous man had a gorgeous cock and getting to see it in person was going to be in her fantasies for a while. Dear lord, was it too late to offer him a blowjob or something?

He kicked the trousers off and laid back amongst the pillows, looking like an especially explicit renaissance painting. He worked himself slowly, methodically, banking his pleasure by allowing himself only the gentlest swipe of a finger over the sensitive head as his hand languidly moved up and down his shaft, occasionally dipping to caress his balls. This had the additional effect of directing Sera’s eyes to every inch of his cock, framed by his beautiful hand and starting to glisten with leaking pre-cum.

(Camera guy #2 left his post and suddenly became _very_ invested in the donut box label.)

She could feel herself getting uncontrollably aroused just from _watching_ , so in a desperate attempt to remedy the situation tore her eyes from his cock to force herself to focus on his face. _Big mistake_. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes fluttering closed, lips parted and panting, his face conveyed every bit of pleasure he felt. The look was… _intense_ to say the least.

Finally, he sped up his pace, working his cock faster and harder. He thrust his hips up to meet his hand, bringing his free hand to his lips to stifle his moans. It was clear he was getting closer to the edge, slick noises echoing through the set as pre-cum dripped freely from his tip. Then, just before he could hit his peak, he took his hand off his cock, having to stifle his cries once again as he denied himself, hips thrusting once as if to chase pleasure in the open air.

A second later, he resumed stroking himself, slowly at first, then building pace—only to once again deny himself at the precipice, not bothering to silence himself now, heavenly moans echoing off the set.

The crew were dropping like flies. Running off to seek their own release, desperately distracting themselves with the snacks or their phones, and generally doing whatever they could to maintain their sanity around what was happening. Sera found herself subtly grinding into the seat of her chair as discreetly as she could; _anything_ to abate her arousal.

Dear god, did whoever he was fantasizing about know how lucky they were? Did they know they had this gorgeous man in such a state from the mere _thought_ of them? Oh, she’d give heaven and hell to be in that person’s place…

Patrick was a sight to behold, glistening with sweat as he rebuilt his pleasure one final time. He opened his eyes, blue nearly lost to his arousal-dilated pupils. For a second, he looked past the cameras. For _one electric second_ , his eyes met Sera’s, sending thrilling heat straight between her legs. With that, he finally allowed himself his release, moaning with sinful heaven while spilling thick ropes across his chest and stomach, letting the rest drip down his fingers as he worked his cock to the end.

He relaxed against the pillows, breathing heavily, looking both blissed-out and wistful, displaying his cum-spattered body and softening cock for the cameras (and scant remaining audience) before giving a nearly imperceptible signal that the camera feed be cut. 

The crew snapped out of their daze and/or miraculously rematerialized on set, and sprung back into action, reeling back the cameras, shutting down the lights, and getting the memory cards over to editing. Though the frenzy of action, Sera kept watching as Mr. Sequoia took a soft towel out of the bed’s nightstand drawer to wipe himself down, before donning a fluffy robe and leaving the set to presumably go clean up properly. The sensuality of his movements, even when nobody was filming, even when he was just cleaning up, was something that she wouldn’t forget for a very long time.

As the day was wrapping up, Patrick pulled Sera aside to ask about the situation with the crew.

“With all due respect, Mr. Sequoia,” Sera did her best to explain, desperately trying to keep steady when in such close proximity to him, “I don’t think dehydration or lack of snacks is the issue. Although I certainly do think it helped _some_ …”

“And you didn’t mind any of that? Being around filming? Seeing… _everything_?”

She told herself she was imagining the spark in his eyes as he asked.

“No, not at all! In fact, if you don’t mind me saying, that was really great, actually. Really, umm… well, really _hot_. I mean, you even drove a _porn film crew_ to distraction, so…”

“What? No! These guys and gals are pros. Probably seen it all, anything I do is nothing to them…”

“No, they were _definitely_ feeling a thirst those drinks couldn’t help! Hey, you should be proud of yourself!”

He brushed off the compliment again. How could he be so _goddamn_ humble and nonchalant about it?

“Nah, those lights and cameras get hot, those shoots must be grueling for them! It really sucks that the extra refreshments didn’t seem to help though,” he seemed lost in thought for a moment, before shaking his head and changing tracks. “Hey, in case it wasn’t already clear, you’re getting paid the full appearance fee for helping out today. In fact, I tacked on a bit of a bonus because you had to do the unexpected tasks of gathering and distributing the things. If that’s okay with you of course.”

She instantly accepted the offer. Honestly, this would help _so_ much with her desperate finances.

“Hey, but if you ever need a snacks assistant again, you’d better call me back first!”

His face broke into a lovely smile. “Of course! You’ll be at the top of the list!”

That settled, Sera left with a quick farewell. Just as she was getting into her car, her phone rang, display indicating the name of one of her best friends.

“Hey, Sera, looks like Jenn’s sick and can’t make it, so I have an extra ticket to the concert tonight. It’s a Soul Punk show by Patrick Stump. Ya know, lead singer of Fall Out Boy? I know you never really listened to them but his solo stuff is different! And hey, I’ve been to one of his other shows and I can tell you, things get _really_ sexy. Like seriously. Even if you’re not into the music you get to see _quite_ the show! If you don’t wanna come it’s ok, I can give the ticket to my sister…”

Sera politely declined the offer. Still reeling from the day’s events, she really didn’t feel fit to do anything except spend some _quality_ time with her vibrator for the rest of the evening. And after all, what could this _other_ Patrick do that could possibly compete with Mr. Sequoia?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Sera's lucky she didn't take that ticket. She would 100% have died from THAT revelation.


	2. We Swear This Late Night Sandwich Shop Isn’t a Subway So We Won’t Get Sued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick films his first porn, and it's a take on the classic "sexy food worker" genre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Includes oral and vaginal sex, as well as the cheesiest porn dialogue known to humanity

In the wake of the hiatus announcement, Patrick might have gone a tad bit _bonkers_.

He’d overhauled his fashion image, gotten into fitness, started his solo music career, and discovered how much he liked acting.

He’d _also_ come to terms with the fact that he got a bit… _excited_ on stage. All those people watching him did _something_.

He liked acting, and he liked being _watched_. And he currently had nobody to answer to except himself, nobody to tell him this could be a questionable decision. He told himself it was also a good opportunity to show off his body and build confidence. He was free to experiment! He was on his own now, and if he was going to take that opportunity to go wild, goddamn it he was going to go wild!

Porn. He was going to do porn. And not some basic phone-on-the-nightstand deal; like his music, he wanted to go all-in, with all the creative control and effort possible.

***

Cheri Champagne, as she called herself, was _not_ new to porn. She’d been in the business for years. She’d had highs and lows in her career, but she was proud of her success.

With her experience, she knew a good role when she saw one. She was adamant now about only taking projects she thought she’d enjoy, and that compensated fairly—and the offer she’d just received in her inbox was both. The only catch she saw was that this “Nervous Breakdance Studios” was brand new…and this was their _very first film_.

She just hoped that any surprises she encountered were pleasant ones.

***

There were indeed pleasant surprises to be had, the first being the studio itself. It was clearly a newly rented studio space, and a moderately sized crew, but impeccably clean and professional looking. Adding to the good impression was the absolutely _gorgeous_ young man who greeted her. Fluffy dyed-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a suit that showed him off to every advantage—he’d pass for a Disney Prince if he wanted to. Well, maybe not so much with that exceptional pants bulge she immediately noticed, but still. He could possibly be a decade younger than her, but _holy shit_ , if she had the opportunity…

“Hi there, Miss, um, Miss Champagne. I’m Patrick St—er, _Sequoia_. Patrick _Sequoia_. _Mr. Sequoia_ , that is. Founder and owner of this, um, operation here…” He seemed adorably nervous, possibly even starstruck. She couldn’t help but wonder if Patrick was his real first name too, given how he’d introduced himself. She continued to stare at him appreciatively as he rambled on about everything. Damn, wouldn’t it be lucky if this were the guy she got to film with?

“…Oh, and, if everything is to your liking today, I’ll also be your co-star in this film.”

She WAS lucky!

“Mr. Sequoia” gave her a tour of the set—which seemed _very_ competently staffed, the guy had put in some effort—and they discussed more of the business side of things. Patrick seemed especially focused on her comfort; she got to decide what exactly got “performed” on camera (given who was in front of her, it felt like being choosing treats off a menu of desserts) and he asked her input on camera angles that would show the maximum amount of them both. It was a nigh-unprecedented amount of creative control for her, and he seemed determined to gain every bit of her vast practical knowledge.

“After all, you _are_ the expert here,” he explained, with the cutest yet most panty-melting smile. She didn’t think anyone in this business had ever smiled at her quite like that.

***

Damn, _what was with this guy_ , Cheri couldn’t help but wonder as she prepared in the dressing room. He was an unknown running an upstart porn studio (which was so new that he was _asking her to explain how to make proper porn, holy shit_ ), but everything seemed so well funded, and he seemed unusually focused on everyone’s enjoyment. She was far from complaining about it, but it still seemed incredibly odd.

In the next dressing room over, she heard him singing as he changed into his costume.

The first thing she noticed was that he was singing “Let’s Get it On”—what a song choice!

The second was that he was an _incredible_ singer. In an awfully familiar way too, although she couldn’t quite place it. Yet another layer to the mystery.

***

The setup was a true classic. The old “underpaid food service worker and sexy woman ordering food” scenario. Maybe a bit vanilla for what she’d done before, but she thought she’d go easy on him for his first porn.

Cheri, in a short skirt and tight tank top, entered the late-night sandwich shop. The door had been painted with “We swear this late night sandwich shop isn’t a Subway so we won’t get sued”, but of course in the appropriate green and yellow to match an actual Subway logo. Behind the counter was Mr. Sequoia, dressed in a vague approximation of a sandwich shop attendant’s uniform, with a black short-sleeved button up, black shorts, and a visor with the “not a Subway…” text painted on it to match the door.

“Hello there, miss!” he greeted as she approached the counter, his eyes taking her in. “How may I be of… _service_ to you?” The intense look in his eyes betrayed an unmitigated expression of _want_ , masking any nervousness he might possibly have felt.

“Hmmm…” she hummed as she tapped her chin while blatantly looking him over with equal intensity. “I think I’d like something… _thick and meaty_. Maybe, say, a foot long?”

“Well, ma’am,” he answered, voice low and seductive as he stepped out from behind the counter. “I don’t have a foot long, but I do have _seven inches_.” His lush lips smirked as he strode toward her.

“Does it _come_ with _extra sauce_?” She leaned back against the counter and pushed her chest out, trying her best to look seductive. Damn, he was giving her THAT look with THAT cheeky smirk and THAT confident stride towards her, and experienced as she was in this industry it was making her goddamn _weak_. Patrick “Sequoia” was unfairly seductive, even through the cheesy porn dialogue and the sandwich shop uniform.

“For you? _Definitely_.” He stood in front of her now, achingly close, leaning forward so they could feel each other’s heat. For a hot second he held himself just a hair’s breadth away from her, teasing her, daring her to make a move.

She took his invitation, roughly pulling him into a kiss, his hands at her waist as hers shot up to tangle in his hair and toss away the Subway visor. He returned the kiss with equal intensity, tongue pushing past her lips to taste her, and she couldn’t help but notice the genuine passion be put into it.

His hands were everywhere at once in the most wonderful way, skimming over her curves. His touch started at her hands, which she’d braced against the counter, before lightly gliding up her wrists and arms, so light and tender as to set her nerves sparking in the most enticing way as those oh-so-sweet lips kept kissing her. Upon reaching her shoulders, his touch moved downwards to cup her breasts—covered only by the tank top, as she’d foregone a bra—and then gently circle her nipples, coaxing them into peaks that showed through the fabric. 

His lips moved to her neck, nipping and kissing and trying to find _just the right spot_ to make her melt. Cheri surprised herself with the moan that escaped her throat when he found it in short order, and quickly set to leaving a mark.

(She’d been initially worried when he told her that she wouldn’t need to get herself “warmed up” before filming, since he prided himself on pleasing his partners. That was starting to look _very_ believable.)

His hands moved slowly, teasingly downward, touch light over her hips, until he took hold of her thigh and hooked her leg around him, spreading her legs and pinning her between his body and the counter. In return, she reached down for a generous feel of his ass with one hand, while the other tangled in his hair to roughly pull him back to her lips.

Bracing his arms on the counter on either side of her, he moaned into her mouth as his hips ground forward, hiking the skirt up her thighs. She could already feel his erection—deliciously hard and thick—through his pants and her lacy panties, giving her just enough friction to stoke her arousal, but far, far from the amount she craved.

She wrapped both her legs around his hips and leveraged him forward so she could shamelessly grind away on him as she unbuttoned his shirt. It was difficult to keep her hands steady and on task, given how much of _him_ was there to distract her. When she reached the last button, he broke the kiss to drop the shirt next to him. He tried to move forward to kiss her again, but she stopped him with a hand resting on his chest.

“Not yet,” she explained, in a teasing tone with a wicked smile, “Let me enjoy the view first.” The way her eyes raked over him was nothing short of _ravenous_ —the cameras wouldn’t be able to tell, but she could see that he was even a little nervous at her intense stare. It was her turn to explore, nipping at his neck as her hands wandered, enjoying the way his breath hitched when she returned the favor of finding the sensitive spot on his neck as her hands teased his nipples.

He wasn’t about to let her take control of this. He ran his hands up her spread thighs, one going to hold her hips steady while the other dragged slowly along her inner thigh, teasing forward, before brushing against the already-dampened lace. He hiked the skirt up to her waist, giving a good view of everything. The sudden touch to her heated core temporarily distracted her from her explorations, and he took advantage, shoving the panties to the side and running his fingers along her slit, gathering slick to circle his fingers oh-so-gently around her clit.

“Oh… oh _please_ , _more_ …” she moaned out as she lay back on the counter, surrendering to the pleasure. She was surprised to find her head laying not on the cold countertop, but instead resting on a rumpled pile of his shirt—he’d hastily shoved it there with his free hand so she’d be more comfortable. _That wasn’t in the scene we wrote at all_ , she realized. He’d just… taken the initiative to make sure she was comfortable.

Patrick responded to Cheri’s moans for “more” by immediately slipping two elegant fingers into her, wasting no time in finding her g-spot. Her thoughts shattered into raw arousal, consisting vaguely along the lines of _Fucking shit goddamn why is he teasing me so good if he was fucking considerate he’d stick his giant goddamn cock in me right fucking now!_

His response was a self-satisfied giggle and a wicked goddamn _smile_. That, and then dropping to his knees and kissing up her thighs as his hand continued between her legs. When his lips reached the apex of her thighs, he removed his fingers and she almost _screamed_ with frustration. A sharp nip on her thigh, marking her, thankfully promised further pleasures. He took the opportunity to pull the panties down her legs, slipping them off entirely and throwing them somewhere on the set.

Cheri was aware how disappointing porn-oral could be. She’d taken the risk and requested it this time after one too many glances at Mr. Sequoia’s incredible lips; she had to at least get a _hint_ of what those felt like. Usually, however, her male co-stars would just dip their heads for a few quick licks (that did almost nothing) before switching to something that looked flashier on camera.

That was definitively _**not**_ Mr. Sequoia’s style.

Patrick knelt, threw her legs over his shoulders, and, for lack of a better term, _dove in_. He was all lush, lush lips and oh-so-clever tongue, nose brushing her clit as he lapped at her opening before licking upwards to kiss and suck on that sweet bundle of nerves. _God, that mouth was made for this_ , she thought as she grabbed his hair to hold his head in place. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, the sight of him between her legs stirring something primal. _Holy shit_. This was the best head she’d received in a long time, and definitely the best she’d ever had on film. She could already feel her release building—a real, honest to god on-camera orgasm.

To steady herself, she risked a surreptitious look up at the cameras and crew. The crew was in some sort of hypnotic shock, apparently drawn in by Mr. Sequoia’s obvious, uh, _enthusiasm_ for his work. At least she wasn’t the only professional losing her goddamn mind over this dude.

Just when she thought the torture couldn’t get any sweeter, he reintroduced his fingers, working her g-spot again as he lapped at her clit. The intense combined stimulation finally sent her over the edge, crying out, nails digging into his scalp to make sure he stayed in place while she rode out her release, relishing the feel of his fingers inside as her walls pulsed around them.

“Satisfied with your service today, miss?” he asked, looking smug as hell as he stood, wiping his chin on some napkins that had been conveniently situated on the counter. As if he needed to ask! Her satisfaction immediately turned to flirty defiance.

“I _believe_ you promised me _seven inches_ with _extra sauce_.”

Patrick dutifully dropped his shorts—he’d gone commando—leaving him completely bare to the world. He subtly turned his hips so that the cameras got an extra-good view as he gave his cock a few perfunctory strokes. Cheri bit her lip as she looked on appreciatively—the boy hadn’t lied about the seven inches, and he was nice and thick too. She lay back on the counter and her makeshift pillow, beckoning him forward with her finger and a cheeky grin.

He trailed a light-as-feathers touch down her inner thighs before spreading her legs further. Unable to resist one last tease, he took himself in hand, running his cockhead up and down her slit, coating it in slick at her entrance before rubbing it against her clit. In frustration, Cheri reached down to position him back at her entrance, shifting her hips so that he just barely started to slip inside.

Taking the hint, he held her hips steady—his thumbs stroking soothing nonsense patterns into her skin—as he finally thrust home, filling her completely in one steady stroke. She was so wet from his ministrations that there wasn’t a remote need for lube, despite his size. She couldn’t hold back her moan, elegantly arching her back as she enjoyed the full sensation.

He leaned down to kiss her as he gave her a moment to adjust. He also took the opportunity to push up her tank top up, leaving it bunched above her breasts the same way her skirt was gathered at her waist, his elegant hands cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples. She explored his body too, hands running over his torso, nails raking down his back, and finally firmly grabbing his ass with a singular demand:

“Move!”

And move he did—a slow, grinding thrust that set her _aflame_. Miracle of miracles, Mr. Sequoia not only had a great dick but he knew _how to use it_. As she moved her hips to match his thrusts, she pulled him down to kiss again. She hoped it wasn’t coming across as too affectionate for the scene, but _goddamn_ if she wasn’t going to have those lips on her as much as possible while she had the chance.

Such a slow pace wasn’t satisfying for long, however. Thankfully, he seemed to sense her need and increased his pace, bracing his arms on the counter to give his hips better leverage. She moved her hand down to play with her clit to enhance the sensation, only for him to shift his weight to one arm so he could swat her hand away and play with her himself. Cheri couldn’t help but cry out again, loudly and shamelessly, as she started to feel that inevitable spiral _upwards_ towards release again.

In one of her older videos, that cry would have passed for one of her (unfortunately many) faked orgasms, but for once, _oh, for once_ , it was absolutely genuine, and it didn’t have to stop yet…

She almost screamed for a different reason as Mr. Sequoia suddenly shifted his pace, abruptly going back to that slow, torturous grind. At first she thought he was being a horrible tease again, but then he leaned forward to growl in her ear:

“Don’t you _dare_ fake anything Cheri,” his voice was low, barely a whisper, obviously so the microphones wouldn’t pick anything up. He took the chance to nip at her neck before continuing, panting a little with each thrust. “If you want to stop, just dig your nails into my arm and we can stop. But I absolutely want to feel you come apart on my cock…”

“Oh GOD keep going! Please, please DON’T stop!” she yelled, not caring that the cameras could clearly pick it up (hey, it could fit the scene anyway), and somewhat confused that Mr. Sequoia thought there was the _remote_ possibility she’d have to fake anything with him.

Satisfied with her response, Patrick sped up his pace, thrusting hard and fast as he teased her bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts, nipping at her neck and collarbones, all with a very clear determination to give her the release of a fucking _lifetime_. Cheri continued her spiral into pleasured insanity, hands roving over his body—now glistening with sweat—and tangling in his hair, fluffing the blond strands into what, under other circumstances, might comically resemble a bird’s feather crest.

It wasn’t long before she felt the telltale heat building in her hips, that inexorable feel of impending release, driven ever higher with each thrust of his magnificent cock. Holy shit, she’d never been fucked _this well_ on camera before; fuck, she’d possibly never been fucked this well in general! Mr. Sequoia had such fervor for this; how the _fuck_ was she so lucky as to be his first co-star?

One final stroke put her over the edge, her pleasured screams echoing through the studio, toes curling as she wrapped her legs around his hips to instinctively keep him closer. Her hands mussed his hair again, pulling him down for another greedy kiss as she relished the sensation of her pussy clenching around his cock as he fucked her through her release. The feel of her coming around him triggered his release, moaning deliciously into her lips as he spilled inside her.

They both simply held each other like that for a moment, him still inside, both having to take a second to process the unexpected intensity.

Patrick came back to earth first, giving her a quick peck on the lips before straightening up and gently pulling out of her. He then promptly collapsed to lie on the counter next to her, looking completely fucked out and pretty as hell. Cheri maintained the Disney Prince comparison, if it was an alternate universe where she was allowed to fuck Disney Princes in not-Subway sandwich shops.

Cheri kept her legs open, proudly displaying the combined fluids leaking out of her for the cameras. Usually, such a shot would be unpleasant and a little invasive, but now, with the cameras at a comfortable distance (albeit sparsely staffed… where had half the crew gone to?) and the fact that this was the result of an awesome romp with the gorgeous guy beside her, she _wanted_ to show off.

“Was the sauce to your liking, miss?” he asked, having regained his wits enough to remember the scene.

“Hmmm,” she responded, reaching down with one finger to gather some of his cum, before licking it off as he stared wide-eyed. “Mmm, delicious. Absolute _perfection_.”

She pushed her top and skirt back down, but didn’t bother retrieving her panties. She stood, knowing full well that gravity was about to make a wonderfully lewd mess down her inner thighs, and relishing Patrick’s stare.

“Will you be _coming_ again?”

“Oh, I certainly will, whenever _you’re_ here to serve me,” she said with the most heated stare and darkly promising grin Patrick had ever seen thrown his way, as she turned and strode out the sandwich shop door.

***

Mr. Sequoia had let her pick the on camera activities, but he’d made one odd demand of her for afterward: that they cuddle, at least for a bit.

That was how Cheri found herself holding (and being held by) a very drowsy and very cute blonde mystery man in an uncomfortable sandwich shop booth, as the crew started to clean up. Who the heck was this guy? What kind of porn star requests _cuddles_ afterwards? It was such an odd request, not that she minded fulfilling it. She indulged him for ten minutes before her need for a shower won out.

***

In the studio’s conveniently-installed showers, she could hear him singing again. Once again she was impressed by his talent, but also struck by the familiarity. He _definitely_ had a voice similar to an artist she’d listened to. Maybe a guy in a band?

***

As she left the studio, Mr. Sequoia continued his unusually gentlemanly streak by walking Cheri out to her car. Along the way, all the expected pleasantries were exchanged; she complimented his studio, told him in as businesslike a manner as possible how much she’d enjoyed the shoot, and stated that she looked forward to possibly working with him again. He returned the compliments, and she enjoyed how he seemed to blush a bit at speaking so frankly about the “work” in question.

“Oh, and one last thing,” she said as they reached her car. “Has anyone told you that you have an excellent singing voice?”

“You heard me sing!?” Patrick seemed genuinely shocked and flustered, and panicked in a way she didn’t quite expect. “When?”

“Both in the dressing room before and the showers after. The walls between them aren’t exactly soundproof.”

“Ah… I’ll have to fix that then…at least you liked what you heard?”

“I loved it! Ah, you know who you sound like?” she was starting to worry about how the color drained from his face a bit as he shook his head. “The lead singer from Fall Out Boy. Hey, his name’s Patrick too! Maybe all Patricks are secretly cursed to be great singers!”

“…oh? The lead singer from Fall Out Boy?” Mr. Sequoia managed to squeak out, looking a little bit ill. _Oops_ , Cheri thought, _maybe he’s one of those dudes that just really hates Fall Out Boy and I’ve just massively insulted him_.

“Hey! From me, that’s a big compliment. They’re a tad young for me, I know, but they sound great! Haven’t kept up with them since that drag of a hiatus announcement though. Anyways, you sound just like the guy that sings for them! It might be worth giving them another listen.”

“…sure…” Was Patrick’s noncommittal answer as Cheri got into her car and drove away.

***

“We Swear This Late Night Sandwich Shop Isn’t a Subway So We Won’t Get Sued”, the pornographic debut of Nervous Breakdance Studios and its star/director/composer Mr. Sequoia was a definitive success. So successful in fact, that Patrick stopped having to send out offers to potential costars and started fielding applications instead.

It was a pretty standard application, as far as porn star job applications went. However, it had one unusual section, specifically demanded by Patrick himself: it required every applicant to list in detail their entire musical taste, including any bands of the recent past they might recognize by voice alone.


	3. Jonathan Harker and the Brides of Dracula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Halloween Special! Originally written and sent to my writing friends around that time, anyways. In this chapter, Nervous Breakdance Studios films a smutty take on the (in)famous scene from just about any adaptation of Dracula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This one’s a little different, and a little kinkier than previous chapters. Features a little bit of femdom, vampires, Patrick with three ladies at once (not sure if it quite counts as a foursome though), and also (role-played) dubcon. I don't think there's anything too shocking, but I thought I'd note it just in case.

_The Horror!_

_The Scandal!_

_The travails of a handsome hero beset by sensual sirens!_

(Patrick absolutely refused to let the title cards guy make a “whore-or” pun, on the grounds of “These women are experts in their field, I refuse to disrespect them!”)

_“Jonathan Harker and the Brides of Dracula!”_

_An Erotic Film by Nervous Breakdance Studios_

The opening credits rolled over melodramatic “spooky” music, in clear homage to classic horror movies.

_Starring:_

_Mr. Sequoia as Jonathan Harker_

_Cheri Champagne as The Countess aka Vampire Bride #1_

_Miss Sugar as Vampire Bride #2_

_Winona Ride-him as Vampire Bride #3_

_With additional thanks to Sera, our snacks assistant, and all our cast and crew._

Patrick-as-Jonathan Harker paced the halls of the dark castle, boots clicking on the stone floors, lantern in one hand and a notebook with assorted papers sticking out tucked under his arm. A storm raged outside, lightning dramatically illuminating the hall as he paced toward the library. He wore a white shirt and a cravat, covered by a beautiful brocaded waistcoat. The bottom of the waistcoat was perfectly cut at his hips, in such a manner as to attractively frame his crotch in his cream-colored, form-fitting trousers. His hair was ruffled as if he’d just arisen and hastily dressed from an attractively fitful nightmare. He looked the perfect picture of a gorgeous 1800s gentleman, just a _bit_ roughed up from having his nerves on edge in a spooky castle. Romance novel cover material, basically, but slightly more dressed (for now).

In short order he reached the library—a grand room with tall bookcases lined with dark wood, with an elegant, sturdy table and chairs in the center. A few plush antique couches were scattered around the room as well. He tossed his notebook on the table, scattering a few papers, before lighting the desk lamp to give himself better light to write by. In the corners, unnoticed by him, three dark forms shifted, circling the desk.

He carefully selected a mostly-unblemished sheet of paper, grabbed a pen, and started determinedly writing _something_ quickly—the perfect picture of an artist under duress as pen raced across paper.

Slowly, the three figures stepped into the circle of light around the desk, the illumination revealing them to be three beautiful women. Each wore an elegant white gown of a different style. Winona stepped into the light first, followed by Sugar. Lastly, Cheri stepped forward. Her dress was more elaborate than the other two, having a corset and full skirt covered in layers of lace. It was clear that she had some sort of status over the other two; a queen among princesses.

Each woman was clearly a bride—hair done up with ribbons and all that—but perhaps one more prepared for a wedding _night_ than day; each had a hunger in her eyes that wouldn’t be satisfied by the standard wedding feast.

Patrick didn’t notice them until it was too late. He looked up from a fevered page of writing only to find the ladies sitting around his desk, intently staring at him. Shocked, he abruptly stood at his desk with the hopes of fleeing, only to for the girls to be instantly by his side, trapping him. How had they moved so fast?

“Wherever are you going, Mr. Harker?” asked Winona, the picture of wide-eyed innocence with a sinister undercurrent.

“Surely you wouldn’t leave us in a storm?” implored Sugar, perfectly matching Winona’s tone. As they spoke, they stepped forward, reaching to touch Patrick’s arm. He startled away from them, alarmed by their unnaturally icy-cold touch. This sent him straight towards Cheri instead.

“Why, yes, even a strong, handsome young man like you certainly can’t be considering leaving the castle now,” Cheri said, reaching up to cup Patrick’s jaw as he stared back with a mixture of fear and defiance at her touch. “And what of the Count? Surely he’d be quite sad at his guest leaving so unexpectedly.”

“I’m afraid I must disappoint my dear host and return home as soon as I can…” It was clear he could sense he was in trouble.

“Oh, dear Jonathan,” Cheri continued, stepping definitively into Patrick’s personal space, “but what about me? It’s rare for such a young, strong visitor to happen my way…” He could see the smallest flash of her fangs as she spoke. 

“Unfortunately, madam,” he said, glancing around, trying to take a step back. Winona and Sugar crowded closer on either side of him, faux-innocent smiles also revealing their unnaturally sharp teeth. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you too.”

He tried to make a desperate bid for freedom, bolting for the door. He was no match for the ladies’ supernatural swiftness, however, and found himself restrained by the two younger vampires holding him firmly by each arm.

“I know what you are!” he shouted at them, futilely struggling against their super strength as they dragged him over towards where Cheri was sitting on one of the couches, looking bemused. “You’re horrible cursed creatures who only want to suck my blood!”

“Oh, we don’t want that. Not yet, anyways,” Sugar purred into his ear.

“We want _so_ much more than just that,” Winona purred into the other.

“Well if you don’t want to suck my blood, then what do you want!?” he demanded as he stood restrained in front of Cheri.

“I want…” Cheri put on her best vampire voice, staring directly into Patrick’s eyes. “I want to suck your _diiiiick_!”

Patrick’s face twitched as he desperately struggled to stay in character.

“You want my WHAT??”

Patrick barely had time to get the question out before Sugar and Winona pounced, dead set on “preparing” him for their queen. Each took one side of his neck, sharp teeth grazing dangerously on sensitive skin, as their hands roamed his body. With wandering hands they appreciated his broad chest and shoulders and his strong arms, their explorations serving as much to arouse him as to hold him in place. In unison they reached down to run their hands along his hips and thighs, _just_ avoiding the increasingly obvious bulge at his crotch, teasing him and freezing him in place with the onslaught of stimulation.

The girls sunk their fangs into his neck, leaving opposing marks on either side as he cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Enough! Now, my dear Harker, stay standing right there for me,” Cheri ordered. In a daze, Patrick stood before her as she sat, tenting bulge in his pants at just the right height. She cupped him through his trousers briefly, before making short work of the fastenings and shoving the garment down to his knees.

His cock flopped free, not _quite_ at full mast yet. No matter, she took him in hand and set such a remorseless pace that his knees started to buckle.

“I said, stay standing!” she barked at him, taking her hand off his cock and glaring at him. She looked over to her fellow vampires. “Hold him upright for me.”

Sugar and Winona dutifully took hold of his arm on either side, bracing him up in front of her.

He was fully hard now, erection framed by the ends of his shirt. In contrast to her earlier pace, her touch was exceptionally light and slow. A loose, gentle stroke along his length. One finger teasing the sensitive intersection where the head met the shaft. Gently cupping his balls as she gave a single, spare lick to the slit at his tip. Barely grazing a fang along the side, equal parts thrill and threat.

Patrick moaned freely at the exquisite torture, and when the two ladies at his side once again put their lips to his neck, those moans turned to _whimpers_.

“Will you beg the Countess for more, sweet darling?” Sugar purred into his ear.

“No! Never!” he struggled to get out, panting hard between phrases as he struggled with the horrible, wonderful, not-quite-enough sensations on _just_ the right spots that were pushing him oh so close to the edge without proper satisfaction. “I’ll never give creatures such as you what you want!”

The girls shared a conspiratorial “oh really?” look as Cheri loosely wrapped her fingers around the sensitive head. She moved in slight, precise strokes, hitting his most sensitive nerves in just the maddeningly right way, carefully mitigating his attempts to thrust forward and gain precious further friction.

His sanity frayed as he found himself pushed touch-by-touch to the edge with such sparse satisfaction, moaning incoherent syllables as the ladies played with him. Winona, still holding him upright with one arm, had let her free hand unbutton his waistcoat and wander under his shirt, stroking through increasingly sweat-matted chest hair to eventually circle a nipple. Sugar focused on marking the gorgeously pale expanse of his neck as much as possible.

Combined with Cheri’s infuriatingly just-right strokes, Patrick found himself reluctantly dragged over the edge, crying out with frustration more than pleasure as the first spurts of cum gushed from his tip.

Without warning, Cheri surged forward and took the head in her mouth, sucking _hard_. He yelped and instinctively tried to jerk away from the sudden intensity, pulling out somewhat and causing cum and drool to spill from her lips. She fought back, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could handle—hand holding him steady at the base, and using all her skill to keep her teeth out of the way—as she sucked him dry, pushing him from painful pleasure into overstimulation as Sugar and Winona held him up when his knees buckled.

Once she was confident he’d finished spilling, she swallowed around him, relishing the indignant _squeak_ he made as his body tensed at the changing pressure. She pulled her lips off his cock with a pop, admiring the way it bounced a little as it sprang free.

“Oh dear, is _that_ all you can manage for us, darling?” Cheri asked sardonically, looking up at Patrick as she gave his softening member a light swat with her hand. He flinched. Some of his cum was still dripping from her lips and down her chin. “Hmm, maybe we _are_ better off just sucking your blood…”

“Oh _please_ , you’ve barely given me the chance to _assist_ your lovely companions here,” he refuted, suddenly all defiance from head to toe despite his disheveled and restrained state. He felt the women on either side of him tense with hopeful anticipation. “Surely you would not deny them?”

“ _Fine_ ,” The Countess agreed with a haughty huff, lounging back on the couch as if she was observing from a throne. “Ladies, have your way with him.”

Winona unceremoniously shoved Sugar away and dragged Patrick over to the nearby Victorian-styled “fainting couch”. She pushed him down on it, then promptly hiked her skirt as she planted her knees on either side of his head, holding herself upright with one hand on the back of the couch.

“Let’s see if I can put that defiant tongue to better use.” She lowered her hips until her dripping pussy was just above his lips. “Convince me why you should live.”

He ran his hands up her thighs to settle on her hips, hesitant. It was unclear if he wanted to shove her away for another desperate bid at freedom, or drag her downwards to torturous pleasures. To her delight, he settled on the latter, pulling her roughly down to his mouth, holding her hips steady as he immediately licked a stripe from her opening to her clit, sucking on the delicate bundle of nerves. 

She yelped at the direct stimulation, dropping her skirt to brace both hands on the tall “arm” of the couch in front of her. He lifted the skirt up from around where it was suddenly covering him, gathering the light fabric and holding it at her hips.

Quite opposite his treatment at Cheri’s hands, Patrick seemed hell-bent on giving Winona everything he could at once. He took advantage of her momentary shock to take control and set a relentless pace, holding her down to him as he licked into her with abandon, nose rubbing her clit as his lips and tongue explored her folds and teased her opening. 

She rocked her hips against his face, trying to regain her pace, but he kept a firm hold on her as her release inevitably built; he was generous, but he wasn’t about to be merciful to her. Despite being half-naked and under her, his cocky defiance was clear. The more she tried to oppose his rhythm, the tighter he held her—she might have bruises down her hips and thighs later.

He moaned into her, the vibrations setting her sensitive nerves ablaze as she took one hand off the couch to tangle in his hair, gripping at the roots and holding him to her. She looked down at him, meeting his eyes. There was a dangerous, mischievous spark there, the obvious knowledge that he had the upper hand. With that, still holding her gaze, he oh-so-slowly dragged his lush lower lip over her clit.

That was her undoing. She arched her back and screamed, hips instinctively grinding against him as she rode the intense waves of pleasure. He lapped up her release, tongue working her through her orgasm.

Just as Winona went boneless, Sugar stepped forward and unceremoniously pulled her off Patrick.

“My turn!” she chirped, sitting on the lounge as Patrick scrambled upright and Winona flopped her way to the other couch. “Oh dear, she got you messy!” Sugar used the end of her skirt to wipe off some of the copious amounts of slick dripping down his chin. She paused second, eyes raking up and down his form and admiring him, before diving for his neck again, taking full advantage of having fangs to leave blooming marks on his pale skin.

Her hands wandered too, reaching the buttons of the waistcoat and shirt, pushing them open to reveal his chest and stomach. Her hands dipped down first, trailing down his body, nails barely grazing his skin, stopping _just_ before she reached the thatch of darker hair where his cock was starting to twitch back to life. She trailed her touch back upwards, pausing to tease his nipples and earning a _delicious_ moan when she combined that stimulation with sucking at just the right spot on his neck. Frustratingly for her, though, he was stubbornly keeping his hands to himself.

That just wouldn’t do! She drew her hands up over his broad shoulders and down his arms, reaching his hands and taking them in hers as she kissed him hard, tongue pushing past his lips, not caring that she could still taste another woman on him. He jumped away from the sudden intrusion, staring wide-eyed at her.

“You have lovely hands,” she observed, glancing down at them briefly, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “ _Use them on me_ ,” she ordered, placing one hand on her breast, cupping her through the thin fabric of her top, and guiding the other under her skirt and between her legs. 

She wasn’t wearing panties either, he found, both by touch and by her lifting her skirt to give a better view. He needed no further guidance, gently parting her folds and skimming his fingers along them, collecting slick until he reached her clit, slowly circling the bud with _just_ the right amount of pressure. His other hand went to work at her breast, thumb teasing the nipple through the fabric. She moaned and pulled him into another rough kiss, hips grinding against his hand, begging for more.

He broke the kiss to use his mouth on her other breast, lips and teeth and tongue working at the other nipple through the fabric, while he abruptly shifted his hand to slip two fingers into her wet pussy. She practically screamed at the onslaught of stimulation, especially as he curled his fingers _just right_ and found that special spot inside of her. _Oh god_ , she thought; she wasn’t going to last long like this.

The vampiress couldn’t help but be a bit indignant despite the pleasure; how _dare_ some mere mortal get the upper hand (…under hand?) on her! Lucky for her, it seemed dear mister “Harker” had finally recovered from his earlier release, and was nearly erect again. She took advantage, reaching down to firmly grasp his cock and start stroking, breaking the maddening rhythm of his fingers and making him gasp against her chest.

“Hmm, I change my mind,” she said. “I think I’d rather use this instead.”

Without hesitation, she threw one leg over him to straddle his lap, holding him steady with one hand as she sank down onto his thick cock. He moaned at the sudden feeling of her warmth enveloping him, but she was the one left with her thighs quivering—she’d been close already, and his size and angle was helping him hit all the right places. After taking a moment to adjust, she braced her hands on his broad shoulders and began riding him a grueling pace that chased her oh-so-close release.

The ride was almost embarrassingly short for her; it seemed only a moment later that she pulled him into a forceful kiss, muffling her screams with his mouth as she came, hips sinking down on his as she relished the feeling of him inside enhancing her pleasure.

Patrick’s stamina won out this time. He’d had to grit his teeth to bear the intensity of her coming around him; but when he pushed Sugar off his lap, his wet cock was still standing proud between his legs.

“Convinced of my usefulness yet, Countess?” he sassed, glaring directly at Cheri.

“I’m not quite sure, Mr. Harker. After all, I just got a small _taste_ before.” She glared back, then beckoned him toward her with one finger. He rose and strode toward her as if compelled, shirt barely hanging from his shoulders as his last bit of clothing, the waistcoat having been brushed off and left behind on the lounge. He’d almost reached her when she stopped him with a motion of her hand. “On your back, now,” she ordered.

“Here?” he questioned. The only thing to lie on was the plush rug in front of Cheri’s couch.

“You heard correctly.”

Hesitantly, still with that _glare_ in his eyes, he complied with her order, curling his hands behind his head to rest on them, blatantly hard dick contrasting the cocky, relaxed pose. Oh, but _she_ could show off too!

She rose from the couch before him, slowly untying the pretty ribbons that held up her elaborate skirt. One by one the ties popped free, loosening the garment until the layers of lace dropped from her hips to pool at her feet, leaving her in the bust-accentuating corset, thigh-high lace stockings, white high heels… and nothing else.

“Like what you see?” she teased as she stepped forward to stand over him, fangs gleaming, planting one foot on either side of his hips. Dedicated as Patrick was, even he couldn’t help but break character for a split second as he stared appreciatively before returning to the defiant act and turning his gaze away.

She lowered herself to straddle him, hips flush to his, trapping his cock between her nether lips and his belly. She moved her hips slowly, grinding so that his shaft ran along her slit, rubbing her clit along the length of him. He tried to reach for her, but she caught his hands and leaned forward to pin them on either side of his head with her own, just as she changed the angle of her hips to slip him inside her and take him to the hilt.

He tried to buck his hips and hurry her pace, but she refused, leisurely riding him, keeping his hands pinned and simply smirking at his attempts to squirm and take control. Eventually, though, she did quicken her pace, heat building in her as she let him thrust upwards to match her.

Heavenly noises spilled from Patrick’s lips as he also tipped towards the edge, back arching and writhing, wishing he had the freedom to just chase the finish that was oh so near…

Finally, Cheri let one of his hands free, as she went to play with her clit to drive herself to her orgasm, predictably only for him to swat her hand away to take over that duty himself. That boy and his pride, always wanting to be the one to tip a gal over the edge! In response she bent over and bit his neck, one last mark to join the rest.

Either she’d bitten a particularly sensitive spot, or perhaps he’d finally just reached the limit of his stamina, but he came at that instant, hips stuttering into hers, cock twitching inside her as her fangs grazed his skin and his wild cries echoed off the set. The combination of his fingers and cock, as well as the thrill of making Patrick break his unwritten “ladies first” rule _twice_ that day, triggered her release, gracefully sitting up and arching her back with an elegant, pleasured _sigh_.

She rode out her release, relishing the feel of his cock inside her until the last waves of her orgasm faded. Then she rose to her feet—legs trembling a bit despite her best attempts to remain as the unflappable Countess—and stood over him as before, albeit now with his cum running down her thighs.

(She could get used to that feeling. After the first time, she’d specifically requested it again for this.)

“Hmm, as you can see, mister Harker, you’ve done well,” she said, indicating the mess and quite obviously enjoying his sex-addled appreciative stare. “You’ve earned your life.”

Patrick snapped back to remembering his role, staring wide-eyed back at the Countess. “I have?”

“Oh, you’ve earned your life, but I didn’t say your _freedom_ ,” Cheri replied, with the perfect villainess’s laugh. “We’ll return you to your chambers, but of course we won’t be letting such a _precious_ toy out of our reach anytime soon.”

At this point Winona and Sugar had recovered enough to reappear and drag Patrick to his feet, preparing to drag him away.

“But what of the Count?!” he asked.

“Oh, him? There’s no need to worry. While you’re here, you’re under _my_ rule, and _my_ protection. If you were to attempt escape again, however… well, there can be no guarantees about what he—or for that matter what _I_ —will do.” She turned once again to her vampiress accomplices. “Take him away! We’ll give him some time to rest before later…”

And thus Jonathan Harker was dragged back to his chambers, to await an unknown fate.

***

The atmosphere was much different in Patrick’s requested post-filming, post-cleanup cuddle session. The bed that was occasionally used for filming was in the storage room, comfortably made with soft sheets. He’d wrapped himself in a soft robe, and everyone else had a comfortable change of clothes on as well. Winona was curled into his side on the left, Cheri on the right, and Sugar sat above him at the head of the bed, playing with his soft, freshly-washed hair.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?” Sugar asked, gently running her fingers over the multitude of admittedly nasty-looking marks marring his neck. “This is… a lot to try and cover up.”

“No, you did wonderfully! Hey, I asked for vampires, and I _wanted_ you all to do your worst in the neck-biting department. Covering it up is no big deal either,” he shrugged, “I’ll just wear a scarf for a while. Or there’s makeup if necessary.” It wasn’t like he was a stranger to wearing scarves or bandannas to hide hickeys, after all.

“Actually,” he continued, “I’m more worried that any of _you_ might feel left out or unsatisfied.”

“Are you fucking _serious?_ ” Winona glared at him in disbelief. “You get us all screaming with pleasure, getting us all _clearly_ off, and you _worry we might be disappointed?_ ” The two other women clearly shared her sentiment.

“So, you’re okay with all the bruises I left too?”

“Down my thighs? _Fuck yes_. I was more concerned about you the whole time, but at least it seems we’ve confirmed that you’re into biting now…”

“You _did_ seem to enjoy the vampire aspect quite a bit,” Cheri pointed out.

“Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been caught by hot lady vampires…”

“Wait, really? I thought the Subway shoot we did was your first film…”

“Oh, um, no, this wasn’t _that_ sort of film. It was more of, uh, a short movie me and my three friends did.” He sort of regretted opening his mouth about it.

“Oooh, you have other films in your repertoire? Tell us more!” Winona snuggled closer to listen.

At this point there was a knock on the door.

“Is everyone decent? Can I come in? I have snacks and water, and, uh, I think you all might need it after that!” Sera called through the doorway.

“Sure!” Patrick called, and Sera entered with her now-familiar tray of refreshments.

“Wanna join the cuddle pile?” Cheri generously offered from her spot on the bed, but Sera sheepishly (and perhaps more than a bit reluctantly) refused.

“Nah, I’m just here to hand this out,” she said, handing them water bottles and packs of cookies. “These were leftovers from the crew.”

“The crew!” Patrick abruptly sat up. “Are they okay? I had the fans and cooling system installed, but I still noticed a lot of them leaving mid-shoot!”

Sera and the other women shared a “wow he’s really an oblivious dumbass about this, isn’t he?” look between them. It was clear that at some point, each of them had tried to get across why the crew was _really_ so distracted all the time, but that all had been equally unable to get past his stubborn streak. Oh well, it was no use arguing it at the moment.

“The crew’s fine,” was all Sera replied.

“So, what was this about a short film you were in?” Sugar asked. Patrick tried to hide his disappointment; he’d hoped Sera’s interruption had distracted from what he’d let slip about his time outside of porn.

“Oh, you were in a short film too? Naked or not?” Sera asked. Oh great, now Sera was curious too.

“Uh, _not_ ,” he sputtered out, thrown by Sera’s bluntness. Oh well, there was no getting around this. “The movie was like, where my friends and I were vampire hunters. One of us was a vampire that had turned against his own kind. We fought against the vampire establishment of this town, and then it goes sour and we all get caught. My character gets overwhelmed by a bunch of hot vampire chicks. Apparently the people who saw it thought my ‘just got bitten’ face looked like I’d had an orgasm and I didn’t hear the end of it for months.”

“ _Did_ it look like your o-face?” Winona asked, clearly getting to the most important matter.

“No.” Patrick replied bluntly. He tried to surreptitiously glance over at Cheri. He knew she was a FOB fan, and wondered if she’d bring up that he’d just summarized the 16 Candles video. He could see she was clearly thinking about _something_ , but she didn’t mention anything, to his relief.

(For her part, Cheri _definitely_ recognized the description of the 16 Candles video. However, she also remembered Patrick’s lackluster reaction to her mention of FOB the first time they’d worked together. She figured that if Mr. Sequoia didn’t like his singing compared to Fall Out Boy, he probably also wouldn’t appreciate his buddies’ student film being compared to a FOB video. Still, she was definitely watching that video again once she got home.)

“Oooh, so _that’s_ where you got the idea for this,” Sera replied, gesturing vaguely at the cuddle pile.

Patrick’s laugh was warm and genuine. “Maybe a _little_.”


	4. Eating Out Your Girlfriend (It’s Real and It Matters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disappointed by comments wondering why women like getting eaten out, Patrick decides to make an "educational" film as equal parts public service and excuse to eat pussy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this one other than that it takes place before Brides of Dracula, and was the original intro for Miss Sugar. I just didn't finish writing this one until I'd already finished the previous chapter.

As is the custom with popular videos, Mr. Sequoia’s “erotic art” masterpieces garnered quite the collection of comments. To Patrick’s dismay, many of them seemed to express equal parts wonder and bewilderment at his co-stars’ obvious delight when he used his mouth on them, with many asking what he could possibly be doing that was so good.

It was a public service, really, that he should do a film especially _about_ eating out. You know, for educational purposes. _Totally_ not an excuse to indulge in pleasuring a lady.

He was so focused on selecting a co-star with the proper qualifications (he wanted to make sure he hired an applicant that definitely enjoyed oral scenes) that he failed to notice her stage name until he’d already sent the casting email. Miss Sugar. Her name was Sugar. And he would be _going down_ on her.

He knew for sure he wouldn’t be able to read the comments section on this video—he didn’t want to read THAT many quoted lyrics.

***

Sugar had worried when she’d heard Patrick’s idea for an “educational” video; she’d been concerned that it would end up with a clinical atmosphere that would kill any arousal she tried to muster. She even started to consider if Cheri’s recommendation of working with Mr. Sequoia might have been in error. But now, with his sinful, plush lips on hers as his gorgeous hands skimmed her curves and stripped her to her underwear, she felt like she was about to _combust_ and take this comfy bed down in flames with her.

“Now, if you want to please a woman, you can’t just go diving straight in,” Mr. Sequoia had explained to the cameras earlier. “She needs to be aroused too! Kiss her! Caress her! Make sure she feels safe and beautiful and wanted!”

He’d then proceeded to very clearly lead by example. He worked down her neck, teeth occasionally grazing sensitive skin, one hand tangling in her hair as he held her to him, while the other went to her breast and started teasing a sensitive nipple. Sugar shamelessly keened when he hit a particularly good spot, spreading her legs to let him rest in between.

“Take this off!” she ordered, tugging at his shirt. She was desperate to see more of him, plus, she rationalized, it would avoid getting anything on a perfectly good shirt once they got to the purpose of today’s filming. He dutifully complied, the motions of removing the garment giving one of the cameras an excellent view of his back and broad shoulders as he tossed it aside. In keeping with the idea of this being instructional, Patrick had multiple camera angles ready, as well as mirrors around the set to strategically reflect other angles.

He returned to her, continuing his slow, torturous trail downward, visibly enjoying her enthusiastic reaction as he nipped at her collarbone, before dipping his head to take her other nipple in his mouth. She yelped as a hand snaked down to brush over her sopping panties, feeling her arousal and briefly teasing her clit through the thin fabric. She tipped back on the bed then, running her fingers through his fluffy hair and down his back, relishing in his thorough attention as he sank to his knees on the floor and helped maneuver her hips to the edge of the bed, disengaging from her chest with a cheeky *pop* and leaving her nipples to harden under a cooling trail of saliva.

As he spread her legs and took an eyeful of her soaked underwear, she couldn’t help but make one more demand.

“Take your pants off too.”

He looked up at her bewildered, for a second. After all, this shoot wasn’t supposed to involve penetration beyond fingering.

“It’s only fair,” she reasoned, trying to look at him with her best pleading stare. To her delight he smiled and gave in, stripping to leave himself only in some delightfully flattering boxer-briefs. She knew for sure then that he hadn’t been planning to strip that much; he generally went commando for shoots. A wave of…appreciation (? She couldn’t quite decide on the emotion in the heat of the moment) swept over her, glad that he’d taken her request.

“It’s, uh, a good idea to always listen to your partner’s wants and needs,” he distractedly explained to one of the cameras as his fingers brushed the edge of her panties’ lace. “May I?”

She nodded and lifted her hips to help strip off her last scrap of clothing. She didn’t feel as _exposed_ as she thought she might, given the pseudo-academic focus on her. Instead there was just the delicious anticipation that not only was Mr. Sequoia about to do wonderfully naughty things to her with his mouth, but he was going to explain _every dirty thing_ with that lovely voice of his too.

His touch ran lightly up her thighs, sending a shiver up her spine when he finally reached her center.

“Now, a lot of what helps a woman feel good is on the outside here,” he explained, gently parting her folds with his thumbs. “As you can see, Miss Sugar here is nice and wet already—that’s a good sign.”

_No shit,_ she thought. _Also, “wet” is the understatement of the century right now_.

“The folds are sensitive,” he continued, skimming his thumb teasingly along them. “Her opening is, of course, sensitive, and also nice and slick if you’re doing things right.” He ran the pad of his thumb along her slit, not dipping inside yet, but gathering her natural lubricant for what he intended next.

“Most sensitive, though, is her clit.” His thumb moved up to slowly circle hers, providing just enough slick pressure to drive her mad, but not enough to start bringing her satisfaction. She bucked her hips in an attempt to get further stimulation, but, eternal tease that he was, Mr. Sequoia insistently kept the same pressure and pace.

“A lot of women can get off from stimulation on their clit alone!” _Not at this frustrating pace they’re not_ , she mentally retorted. “But for some it can also be _too_ sensitive.” _If I don’t get his mouth on me soon, I’m going to explode_. One hand tangled in his hair. “So it’s once again important to listen to your partner and pay attention to what kind of stimulation she likes.”

Using his hair as leverage, Sugar pulled his head toward her. “More, please!” she whined, sounding way more desperate than she’d intended.

“If she’s pulling your head towards her pussy, that’s probably a good sign.”

He leaned forward and licked a long, broad-tongued swipe, pausing to take one of her folds into his mouth and teasingly sucking, to _finally_ giving just the barest _flick_ to her clit before pausing to explain again.

“Remember what I said about, uh, sensitive spots before? Yeah, uh, you can, well, use your mouth on those,” he hastily spat out, losing eloquence and patience thanks to the distraction of having _her_ shoved in his face. Sugar couldn’t help but be proud at his obvious distraction.

He braced her thighs apart with his hands, and pressed one last kiss to her clit before finally, _finally_ , diving in properly. She threw her legs over his shoulders, trapping him between her thighs, and cried out in pleasure as his clever tongue worked its magic, teasing her opening, barely dipping in to taste her as his nose bumped her clit. That seemed to remind him to say something, but she dug her fingers further into his hair to prevent him even _thinking_ of pulling back to talk now.

“If you’re using your mouth on her vag, your nose can help work her clit!” She gasped out as he lapped along her folds. Screw what she’d thought of how hot it was for him to be explaining, she’d gladly take over that duty if it meant his mouth could keep working on her. Patrick seemed to approve of her proactive approach, moaning into her and sending delicious vibrations to her core as he continued his slow ascent to her sensitive bud.

“Mm, uh, moaning into her feels good too.” She had to pause to take a breath and moan herself as his tongue made its first pass over her clit. “Humming also sends vibrations into the sensitive bits. Neither is really anything compared to a commercial vibrator but it can still feel… _Oh God!_ ”

He’d moaned against her again, directly against her clit, then gently sucked the bud between his lips. He continued to lavish attention on it, running his plush lip over it and spoiling her with slow, indulgent licks.

She was hopelessly wet now, her slick running down his chin and dripping down to the sheets. She knew she could come like this, but oh, she wanted just _that much more_ , and she knew just how to ask. Taking a deep breath to steady herself as much as she could, she explained to the camera:

“When you’re going down, remember she might still like the feel of something inside,” she managed, panting between words. “She has a g-spot and your fingers will feel _great_ on it.”

She glanced back down to Patrick, meeting his eyes as he gazed at her from between her legs. He smiled into her as he got the hint, all too happy to further please her, as one elegant digit gathered slick at her entrance before gently pushing inside. It wasn’t enough and he knew it—yet another goddamn _tease_ —but, _oh_ , he _really_ wanted to hear her ask for more.

At this point Sugar had no shame about practically _begging_ for it, whimpering out a simple “more, more!” the second she realized what he was doing. He wasted no time then, adding a second finger and stroking along her front wall in a come-hither motion as his mouth continued its heavenly work.

“Oh, yes, right there, _Patrick!_ ” She gasped out as he finally hit the right spot, and then dutifully focused his strokes there. She collapsed back on the bed, loosening her grip on his hair, unable to do more than shamelessly indulge in the incredible onslaught of pleasure. Every swirl of his tongue and stroke of his fingers sparked more of the telltale heat in her hips, building and building and building into what promised to be an _extraordinary_ finish.

As she hit her peak, she truly understood how an orgasm could be described as “mind-blowing”. Her thoughts were goddamn scrambled as her world reduced to the _explosive_ feeling of pleasure emanating from between her legs, back arching off the bed as her pussy clenched and rippled around his fingers, another wave of wetness dripping from her around his fingers and onto the increasingly soiled sheets. 

He dutifully worked her down from her high, slowing his tongue and gently withdrawing his fingers. He pressed one last kiss to her pussy before wiping his face on a nearby towel, and then turning to the cameras to say something that she didn’t catch, and quite frankly didn’t care about at this point. All she could tell was that, with no small amount of pride on her part, he sounded _fucking wrecked_ as well.

After that, he gave the signal for filming to cut, and pulled the curtain he’d installed around the bed to give privacy to anyone who needed a second to recover on-set after a shoot. It was then that she caught sight of the absolutely _massive_ tent he’d pitched in his boxers. Despite the fact that she’d just came as hard as she’d ever had in her life, a new wave of arousal shot through her. She’d seen his other work and couldn’t help but be a bit jealous of the girls that got to take his gorgeous cock. And now, given how absolutely sopping wet she was, all she could think of was how _easily_ and _wonderfully_ he’d slide in…

“Are you all right?” he asked, and she realized he’d probably caught her staring. Not that his checking up on her wellbeing was unusual, given what she knew of him. Well, she thought, no guts no glory…

“I’m wet.” She stated bluntly. “Very, very wet. And aroused. And you haven’t been touched all shoot, so I was thinking…”

“Oh! No, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do that!” he squeaked, looking somewhere between awkward, concerned, and panicked. “I just got through explaining to the cameras that sex doesn’t always need to involve penetration. I’m perfectly capable of working this out myself; you don’t have to do anything off camera.”

Really? Seriously?? This guy thought she was feeling pressured to please him? She could tell from the get-go that Patrick definitely _wasn’t_ that type of guy.

“Oh, um… well then do you have a dildo or something I can work with? I’d still like to get myself sorted out,” she asked, a bit shy as she started to consider that _she_ might be the unethical one for propositioning him.

“Well, uh, I mean, I can help you if you really want…”

Holy shit was he _blushing_? As if he hadn’t had his face wedged in her pussy a minute ago???

“Only if _you_ want to,” she answered firmly, doing her best to establish that they were on the same page regarding consent here.

“Yes!” he said, immediately looking embarrassed at his own enthusiasm. “Er, well, how can I help you?” Sugar could see him mentally slap himself at how customer-service that sounded. For all his suaveness on the film set, Mr. Sequoia was a goddamn adorable dork too. “I mean,” he managed to continue, “We’re not filming it, so there’s no pressure about it having to look nice or last long or anything.”

“Hmm,” she considered for a second, finger tapping her chin as she shamelessly looked him over, legs spread open. Then, she gathered the abundance of pillows, turned around on all fours, hips in the air as she settled on her pillow nest. One of the conveniently placed mirrors was directly across from her.

“Cock in my pussy, fingers reaching around to my clit. And I get an _excellent_ view of both of us right across. I'll probably cum _screaming_ ,” she explained, grinning as she met his eyes in their reflection.

“ _Yes ma’am_ ,” he purred, shucking his boxers. Sugar enjoyed his reflection in the mirror as his dick sprang free. He paused for a second to grab a condom from the nightstand drawer. “Hey, we’re not filming, so there’s no need for me to make a mess,” he explained when he caught her puzzled expression.

_Where did this fucking_ angel _come from and how did he end up in porn?_

Once he rolled the condom on, he wasted no time in lining up behind her, running his cock along her slit to gather her wetness.

“Ready?” he asked, holding her hips steady with one hand and lining himself up with the other.

“ _God,_ yes!”

She absolutely _savored_ watching him in the mirror as he entered her, his pleasure written clearly across his face. The only thing better and more distracting was the _feel_ of him, stretching and filling her in the most _delicious_ way, easily sliding in with her copious slick. She was still sensitive enough from having come that it heightened the sensations further.

And there was _so much_ of him too. He stopped halfway in to hold her trembling hips and ask if she was all right. “Holy shit yes, keep going!” seemed to assuage any of his concerns, and he pressed in to the hilt before pausing again, massaging nonsense patterns into her hips and thighs as he let her adjust to him.

He hit _deep_ at this angle, and her walls were already fluttering lightly at how much he stretched her. She’d been right; whoever got to fuck him was _goddamn lucky_. It got even better as he pressed fingers to her clit again, rubbing slow circles as he waited for her permission to move.

Sugar didn’t trust herself to not hilariously jumble words at that point, given the distracting feeling of _everything_ , so she just started moving her hips against him in the hopes that he’d take the hint.

Thankfully he understood, starting to thrust with steady strokes, timed perfectly to firm circles on her clit, which made her really _feel_ his length and girth even more. 

“God, you’re _big_ ,” she moaned out, pressing her face into her pillow nest as she decided to just luxuriate in the sensations. “You feel amazing.”

“You, ah…” he had to catch his breath as she purposely clenched against him on a deep thrust, “You feel pretty amazing yourself.” Speeding up the pace of both his fingers and his thrusts, he braced himself over her to kiss her neck and nip at her shoulder.

She _really_ wasn’t going to last long. Each pass over her clit and each pounding thrust sent the warmth of her impending release closer to a raging inferno. She stopped even trying to match his pace, doing her best just to hold her hips up and let every sensation just rise higher and higher…

She planted her face firmly in the pillows to muffle what would otherwise be an embarrassingly loud scream as she came, clenching _hard_ on him, the feel of him inside her causing ripples and aftershocks of her release that seemed to just go on and on…

Her release triggered his, and he didn’t bother to muffle his finishing cry at all, shamelessly pressed against her back and moaning into her ear. She glanced back up into the mirror to enjoy his face again, now dripping sweat and blissed out.

After taking a moment to recover, he gently pulled out of her, and she quickly turned around to get a look at him.

“That would have been a good one to film,” she mused, noticing the impressive load in the condom as he disposed of it in the bedside wastebin. He just shrugged. She couldn’t help but enjoy the thought of what it would have been like if he’d have spilled inside, or on her.

“Do you mind if I?...” he indicated the bed she was currently sprawled over. Oh right! Cheri had told her about Mr. Sequoia’s cuddling thing he liked to do after, and he’d helpfully brought it up again right before the shoot. Without hesitation she scooched over, patting the bed beside her, and curling up to him when he climbed on. Sugar had to agree with Cheri that it was a little odd, but also, well, _really sweet_.

She really liked this Nervous Breakdance Studios, she decided. And she was _definitely_ working with Mr. Sequoia again the next chance she got, even if it was for some weird vampire movie or something.


	5. With Friends Like These…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick's bandmates (and Brendon Urie) get an unexpected eye-full of their friend/coworker when videos by a certain "Mr. Sequoia" show up on their favorite porn site.

Brendon hadn’t expected anything unusual to happen when he settled down in front of his computer that night, favorite site loaded and bottle of lube at the ready. Honestly, it was supposed to be a nice, relaxing evening of good ol’ self-pleasure.

Oh hey, was that a new Cheri Champagne video? Oh, and a new one with Miss Sugar too…

Wait a second… that guy… _WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?_

***

After diligently watching both films (in great detail, several times—for full context, of course), Brendon did the only thing he could think of: saved the links to an email and immediately sent them to Pete Wentz, Joe Trohman, and Andy Hurley.

***

Pete wasn’t _quite_ sure what to make of an email with the subject line “OMG CHECK OUT THIS LINK, IT’S CALLED ‘EATING OUT YOUR GIRLFRIEND’ AND IT’S REAL AND IT’S PORN AND IT MATTERS”. The all caps could be the signature of one of those email virus bots, or it could be, well, Brendon.

Pete, feeling distinctly unconcerned for his computer’s health that evening, went ahead and opened the email.

“Hey, so I’m not exactly sure of the protocol of sending your friend-slash-coworker-slash-boss links of a pornographic nature,” it began, “But you _really_ need to see these new flicks by Miss Sugar and Cheri Champagne. Both with a ~mysterious~ new costar, named Mr. Sequoia, who you’ve _definitely_ **never** seen before. He’s _certainly_ not anybody we know, or have heard of… or heard the voice of. And his real life name definitely _does not_ also start with an S or is related to trees, oh _no_ …”

At this point, Pete was convinced that the email seemed too specific to be a virus bot. He was still suspicious of the links, but more in the sense that they might be a prank. Like Brendon was setting him up for some porn when they really led to some shock site or something. Still, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do that evening…

To his relief, it actually was links to porn.

He wasn’t sure if that was a sentence he’d expected to ever encounter… but then he remembered that he was _Pete_.

To his complete and utter shock, to the point where “surprise” was an understatement, the man in the videos—gleefully eating out Sugar and plowing into Cheri—was undeniably _Patrick_. There was no question about it; he’d know Patrick anywhere. Pete was utterly dumbfounded, stuck glaring at the bright screen and frozen in his chair with his jaw dropped and a stubbornly confused erection.

***

There was more paperwork involved with creating porn than one might expect, but it _was_ a studio, and like any other studio, there was paperwork. Among that paperwork, naturally, was processing the applications for potential co-stars.

Patrick oversaw that himself; after all, it was important to him to personally screen who he was potentially having sex with. That, and the fact that he was the only one who knew the actual purpose of the music-taste “productivity survey”.

He’d settled in for the evening, stack of applications ready for review. The first few were pretty standard, and he simply sorted them into the “call back”, “reject”, or “maybe” piles. Then, a few entries down the stack, a specific entry caught his eye.

Applicant Name: Pete Wentz.

No…there was no way…

Qualifications: google my name and you’ll see the dick pics

Ok… so maybe it was a fake. Someone catfishing as Pete for… whatever reason. While he hadn’t exactly wanted to contact Pete lately, Patrick still started brainstorming ideas on how to tell Pete someone was impersonating him and applying to porn studios without, well, blurting out that Patrick owned the studio in question. He hadn’t told anyone yet, and still wasn’t sure how to break the news.

Sure, Patrick wasn’t exactly dedicated to hiding his “secret identity”; he didn’t hide his face and certainly didn’t hide his body in the videos. Still, the wide world of internet porn was presumably large enough that he’d felt it unlikely that people he personally knew would find it this quickly…

The rest of the application wasn’t properly arranged into all the prearranged question boxes Patrick had helpfully included on the application. Instead, it was sprawled out across the entire pages in a rambling, ungrammatical, and decidedly familiar manner:

Reason for Application/Specialties/Suggestions/Music Taste/etc: My one and my only back in Paris he (she?) and I met together, an old friend and I a dearest friend and it was all old buddy old pal but we took turns taking it in turn my Amie and I and four boys in a tired band on tour but things get hot between them…

No, it was Pete. Unfortunately, this was definitely Pete. A brief panic went through Patrick’s mind as he thought of the implications of his old bandmate applying to work at a porn studio, especially suggesting porn based on his band days. Was Pete that desperate? Wait, did Pete maybe not know it was Patrick? (Patrick dismissed that one quickly, as he knew there was no way Pete _wouldn’t_ have recognized him after watching 30 seconds of pretty much any video.) He read to the end of the application.

Additional Comments or Requests: call me, Patrick

Patrick was _still_ not quite up for that, however. Especially since the shock of suddenly hearing from Pete again in _this_ manner wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted when he’d started the day. He threw Pete’s application into the “rejected” tray with a bit more force than necessary. Maybe he should have had an intern screen these first; they would have rejected this out of hand as a hoax before he’d had to read it himself.

Onward to the next application then…

Applicant Name: The Incredible Vegan Sausage

Vegan, huh?

Qualifications: A fit body decorated in tattoos, kept in shape by crossfit and a healthy diet

Reason for Application: I wish to film intercourse with you

Was…was this the porn alternate universe version of Andy? No… dammit, Pete’s application must have thrown him off course and directed his thoughts to his former bandmates instead. Andy wasn’t the only crossfit vegan with tattoos, after all.

Specialties: Now that I have your attention, Patrick, since god knows I’ve had to work to find a way to contact you, I thought I’d share some concerns about the ethics of pornography that I felt the need to make you aware of…

What followed was an _incredibly_ thorough essay, with sources cited, about issues concerning consent, equal pay, lack of respect for workers, and generally all the ills that plagued the porn industry. It was followed by:

Suggestions: Vegan, biodegradable condoms should also be a must-have for your shoots. I’ve noticed how many times you finish inside your co-stars without visible protection. Have you gotten checked for STDs? Do you have contingency plans if one of the women in your employ becomes pregnant? You also want your protection to be cruelty-free and not damage the environment…

Shit, this was definitely really Andy too.

If he was shaken by Pete’s application, Patrick was _insulted_ by Andy’s. Did his friend really think he wouldn’t pay everyone, or that he wouldn’t respect boundaries? Did he think that regular testing wasn’t part of the studio, or that Patrick wasn’t careful about checking with his co-stars concerning birth control???

At least, of all the things Andy was being judgy about, he wasn’t judgmental about the fact that Patrick was _doing_ porn—just wanting to make sure that it was all ethical. That was the only reason Patrick didn’t immediately find a way to drag Andy in and force him to watch the next shoot to _prove_ how ethical it all was. Still, he filed Andy’s application in the “maybe” tray, not because he thought Andy might be willing to film anything with him, but just in case he still wanted to drag Andy in for a studio tour sometime.

Also, “I wish to film intercourse with you.” Really, Andy, you had to word it like _that_?

The next few applications were, thankfully, normal. But then, there was one last one in the tray…

Applicant Name: DJ Horny

The rest of the application paid as little heed to the helpful text boxes as Pete’s had, but in a decidedly different way. Instead of rambling emo verse, the page was covered in suggestions like “cumming with a shredding guitar solo”, “what’s the deal with metal and porn soundtracks?”, and “maybe sometimes two bros can kiss even when they’re NOT DRUNK.” Accompanying the offbeat phrases were doodles of Dungeons and Dragons-esque monsters, Bart Simpson, Garfield, rainbow unicorns, winged guitars, and lots of variations on dicks. Heck, some of the creatures were even _made out of_ dicks. There also appeared to be some fantasy-themed stickers, with sparkly dragons and stars, framing the edges.

Ah, so Joe had found out as well. Great.

At least the bizarre whimsy of the application was making Patrick laugh rather than either panic or roll his eyes.

Suggestions (or, at least vaguely scrawled near that box): Two dudes, just making out. Once again, NOT DRUNK. Tasteful Led Zeppelin-inspired music plays in the background.

This was accompanied by a winged guitar being played by a dick creature as lightning shot from the end, presumably representing an excellent metal solo.

Joe certainly got points for… well, being _Joe_.

…He put the application in the “call back” pile. After all, Joe had supported his solo music. Why the fuck not see if he could help with this solo project?

…And what would a “tasteful Led Zeppelin porn soundtrack” sound like anyways?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun fact, I had a hard time trying to replicate Pete's rambly writing style, so I actually adapted a piece of writing from ANOTHER songwriter in another four-piece rock band who ALSO wrote rambly homoerotic emo-esque poetry, which might possibly have been about his best friend/co-songwriter. Basically, Peterick decades before Peterick existed.
> 
> I don't get many comments on here, but I'm curious if anyone else can guess whose writing I adapted. I'll give you a hint: He and his band got famous in the 1960s!


	6. If You Were Church...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Patrick needs to take some sexy pictures for his porn portfolio, Sera volunteers to help... in more ways than one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate summary could be "Sera finally gets to give Patrick that blowjob she's been fantasizing about"

Patrick prided himself on his thorough artistic involvement in Nervous Breakdance Studios, and that included the design of the studio’s profile on every erotic film site he allowed to host the videos. As a result, he was rather annoyed, to put it lightly, when one of the sites suddenly insisted that he have a separate set of still profile photos for “Mr. Sequoia”. The site administrator had said that just screenshots from his videos would be fine, but Patrick wouldn’t settle for something so half-assed (so to speak).

Still, given the site’s time frame, that left him frustratingly little time to find a photographer and do a photoshoot, and somehow all the time in the world to worry about the resulting quality.

That was how he found himself awkwardly stripping naked in a hastily-assembled living room set, with an equally nervous-looking Sera, snacks assistant extraordinaire, setting up her camera.

When Patrick had started asking if anyone knew any photographers available on short notice, she’d thoughtlessly volunteered herself without asking exactly what photographs he needed. Sure, she wasn’t a professional, but she’d taken enough photography electives in college to know her way around a camera. And she’d dished out snacks at enough of his porn shoots that she should be able to handle taking some nudes of him… right?

She’d barely been able to handle the technically-safe-for-work portraits of him in his very-well-fitted suit earlier. As he’d been smoldering into the camera and posing in ways that increasingly emphasized his crotch bulge, she’d been left soaking through her panties and pressing her thighs together, hoping to contain her lust long enough to actually be a decent photographer.

However, while she was as turned on by Patrick’s antics as ever, Patrick himself seemed to be having a more difficult time of it. He seemed nervous, lacking that obvious spark that usually permeated his work. As he took off his pants and boxers, Sera couldn’t help but notice that, for a rare time on camera, he didn’t have an erection. He just stood there, naked, awkwardly asking how she wanted him to pose.

Well, she decided, if he wasn’t ready for the hardcore pics yet, they could start with some tasteful nudes. She picked a few artistic poses, set the lights, and snapped away. Eventually, she posed him on the couch in the traditional “draw me like one of your French girls” way, propping him up on some pillows. When there weren’t enough pillows, she shoved some old magazines under a pillow for more height.

While the results were gorgeous, the profile also needed some more hardcore stills with him, well, hard. And, despite the success of the photos so far (both in photographic quality and in “making Sera wetter than ever” quality), it was clear that, unfortunately, Mr. Sequoia still wasn’t quite feeling it. Honestly, she was perplexed. The guy could keep an erection and bring multiple ladies to orgasm with it while in front of multiple cameras and a crew full of people, yet couldn’t get it up for a photoshoot with her?

Her mind flashed back to when he’d offered her the snacks assistant job instead of a position as co-star, and insecurity rushed in. What if he’d hadn’t rejected her out of concern for her academic future; what if she was just THAT much of a turn-off to him?

Well, even if she was the ugliest hag in the universe, he still needed these damn pictures for his damn profile, so Sera cut right to the chase and asked him what was wrong.

“After all,” she pointed out, “This can’t be THAT much different from what you usually do here, right?”

“That’s what I thought initially,” he answered, after considering for a second. “But it’s not. Normally, the cameras start rolling and I get to, well… just do my thing I guess. There’s flow. It’s not having to constantly stop and pose and adjust and consider everything about how I look…”

“Ah, so it’s not that I’m too much of a turn off?” Her tone was completely lighthearted and joking, despite the grain of truth in that fear.

“No! No, not at all!” he reassured her, eyes wide that she’d even joke about it. “It’s just so difficult when there’s so much to consider at once… It’s like I’m keeping track of every part of myself and I can’t stop thinking…”

“What if we made it more like one of your usual filmings here?” She interrupted. “Introduced some of the usual flow and I just snapped pics at the proper times?”

“That might work… but how would we do that? Usually for filming I have a scenario, or at least another person to work with to help me out…”

“I could blow you.”

“What?!?!”

Sera, like pretty much every crew member, had dreamed of some “fun time” with Patrick since her first day at the studio. Heck, she distinctly remembered having to stop herself from running into the shot and dropping to her knees in front of him at the first filming she’d witnessed. Now was her chance, damn it, and she was going to try and take it!

“You said that you aren’t nervous about the cameras when you just get to have sex. Well, I could use my mouth, and maybe to a lesser extent my hands, and just pause to snap a few pics along the way.” God, it sounded ridiculous to her ears as she said it, but she hoped Mr. Sequoia would at least let her down gently if he rejected her.

“But… but I told you that you didn’t have to do anything when I hired you!”

“My concern wasn’t about sex with you, silly,” she said. The evidence continued to pile up: Patrick was a goddamn sweetheart. “It was more having my naked self on camera. I won’t be in the photos here, just taking them… and setting them up, as it were.”

“You’re… you’re really comfortable with this?”

“Definitely! I mean, we’re both adults here, I know we’re both clean, and there’s not really a downside to this arrangement that I can see.” Unless I end up addicted to your dick or something, Sera thought, and immediately brushed the thought away for her own sanity. She hazarded a glance down at his crotch and saw that his dick was indeed starting to twitch to life.

“Well then, in that case,” Patrick still seemed adorably shy, which was only increasing her desire to absolutely devour him. “In that case, have your way with me… provided I get to return the favor after.”

In all honesty, Sera didn’t really hear anything after “have your way with me”, given that her brain short-circuited and she immediately stepped forward and dropped to her knees in front of the couch where he was seated. Her hungry eyes raked over him as she decided where to start; sheer desire had her wanting to dive straight for his crotch, so, she figured she’d just go for it.

“Whoa, easy there!” he said, reaching out to stop her halfway.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re just… diving in?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Sera didn’t think she’d ever see a porn star look as shy as he did in that moment.

“Uh, well, yes, but… maybe you could kiss me first?”

Oh. Now that she thought of it, Sera realized Mr. Sequoia generally had a lot of affectionate foreplay, even before oral. That must just be his “style”, she thought, mind giddy over considering exactly how the gorgeous guy in front of her liked to fuck. Well, if kissing was what he wanted, she was more than happy to oblige.

Sitting up a bit, she reached for him, one hand curling around the back of his neck to guide him to her, the other resting on one of his broad shoulders. He closed the last gap between them, those luxuriously plush lips of his capturing hers and oh, he really was as good at kissing as he’d seemed on screen. His tongue brushed the seam of her lips, gently seeking permission until she let him in, drawing a moan from her. 

That moan shook her back into the moment—wait, she was supposed to be working him up! She let her hands wander then, over his broad shoulders and down his chest, enjoying his gasp when she gently circled his nipples before continuing her downward route.

Finally, she reached her destination, one hand going to his hip to steady him as she wrapped the other around the thick base of his hardening cock. Patrick broke the kiss with a loud moan, leaning back again to watch as Sera slowly started stroking him. She reveled at his intense look as their eyes met again.

“Show me how you like to be touched, Patrick.”

He gently placed his hand over hers, guiding her for a few strokes up and down his length. Hm, he has calluses on his fingers, she noticed, taking in every detail she could for future fantasies. Maybe he plays a musical instrument in his spare time?

He gripped the couch cushions on either side of him as he left her to continue working him, stroking him from base to tip, pausing to circle the head with her thumb. She looked up to gauge his reactions, and reveled in the blissed-out expression on his face as she felt him grow harder in her hand. Holy shit, he really is that big. She’d obviously seen Patrick’s dick before, but actually getting to feel him was another matter.

Ah, but she hadn’t lost sight of what she’d really wanted to do here. Holding him steady at the base, she leaned forward to press a soft kiss on the underside of his cock, right where the head met the shaft, before taking the tip into her mouth.

He immediately reacted with a loud, deep moan, head thrown back against the couch’s rear cushions as his thighs instinctively tightened around her from the stimulation. Not wanting to get overly squeezed, her free hand went to brace against one thigh, holding his legs open. She reveled in the feel of the taught muscle flexing under her fingers, and the light dusting of hair. Patrick had glorious thighs—yet another entry in the fantasy pile.

Given his size, Sera knew it would be difficult to take all of him in her mouth, and she didn’t want to risk some unsexy gagging. She took what she could, and used one of her hands to work those wonderful extra inches. She set a torturously slow pace, moving up and down his shaft, gently sucking as she felt him reach full hardness. Fuck, I’ve done this to him, she realized with pride, moaning around his shaft at the thought.  
Patrick released a deliciously tortured-sounding moan of his own at the extra stimulation, his hands flying from the couch cushions to tangle in Sera’s hair. She could tell he was using all his restraint to not just fuck her mouth, which just sent more heat straight between her legs. She glanced upwards to look at his face and further chase this high of knowing exactly how much she was affecting him.

God, he looked gorgeous. His eyes were closed, his mouth hanging open, sweat starting to stick his hair to his forehead. As if he sensed her gaze, he met her eyes with a hooded gaze of his own. If there was any picture she could permanently save in her brain, it would be this…

Oh shit, THE PICTURES! 

She’d completely forgotten exactly why she was getting to do this (“this” being the privilege of blowing Mr. Sequoia, holy shit) in the first place—those damn profile pictures! She took her hand off his thigh and awkwardly felt around the ground next to her. There! Thank god, the camera was still there within reach.

With great reluctance, she swiftly pulled off of him, hauled herself to her feet, and started snapping away with the camera as fast as she could. Patrick’s face showed a combination of confusion at what just happened, indignation at her suddenly pulling away, and the slightly pained frustration of having stimulation taken away at the height of arousal. It all combined for a bratty look that actually read really well on film.

After a second, Patrick’s brain caught up to the situation and he helped to pose himself better, angling his hips to show off his straining cock and drawn-tight balls. He took himself in hand and started stroking, desperate for more stimulation. Sera took a few pictures of that before dropping to her knees, setting the camera down next to her, and swatting his hand away.

“I like to finish what I start,” she quipped, glancing at him briefly before taking him back in her mouth.

Any response he had was lost in the moans he made as she worked her way back up to her previous rhythm. He was to the point of leaking now, her tongue catching pre-cum whenever she circled the head or lapped at the slit. She moved one hand to fondle his balls, drawing even more noises from him.

All too soon she sensed his thighs trembling on either side of her head. 

“Sera, I’m… ah…,” he gasped out, trying to warn her of his impending release. When she stubbornly kept her pace, he buried his hands further in her hair and pried her off of his cock.

What??? Did he not want to come in her mouth? Did he want to come on her face instead? Her tits??? She hadn’t even taken her shirt off for that to work! It wasn’t until he managed to grunt out “photos” that she realized what he meant.

She grabbed the camera and quickly switched it to the aptly-named “burst shot” mode as he took himself in hand, roughly stroking himself for a second before finally reaching his peak. The camera caught every gorgeous frame of his face in ecstasy, as well as every pulsing spurt from his cock as he spilled rather messily across himself, the couch, and even a bit of the floor. Sera just did her best to keep the camera out of the…um, splash zone, while also reveling in the fact that the climax she was photographing had been punctuated by him calling out her name. Holy shit, he’d called her name at climax.

To snap herself back to reality again, she quickly started checking the photos while Patrick recovered a bit.

“Oh wow, these turned out great!” she said, holding the camera out to Patrick so he could assess them.

He hummed in agreement. “But I’m more concerned about returning the favor now. Would you prefer the bed or another couch? Unfortunately I’ve gotten this one a bit messy.”

“Huh? Bed or another couch?”

“Remember, when I agreed to let you, um, help me out? I agreed on condition that I got to return the favor,” he explained, smoldering gaze meeting hers.

Oh shit, he had said that. Holy shit he wanted to return the favor. And was asking her which furniture piece from the storage room she wanted!

“Bed! Bed… definitely the bed!” she stuttered out as he whisked her away to the storage room.

They wasted no time at all in removing her clothes, working together to get those troublesome garments out of the way. His eager touch roamed over her as they bared each bit of skin, his lips on her neck or nipping at her collarbone, greedy in the best possible way. Before she could even consider becoming shy or self-conscious, he captured her lips with his again, gently tipping her back onto the bed.

He kissed down her body then, the occasional soft lick or gentle graze of his teeth mixed in, as his hands parted her thighs, fingers brushing teasing circles on the sensitive skin. He had a clear goal in mind, and in the haze of his lust he was eager to reach it without delay.

“Oh, Patrick,” she moaned as he kissed just above where she wanted him most. Then, he dropped to his knees beside the bed, resting her legs over his broad shoulders—and turned his head to start kissing down her thighs instead! The tease! She let out an indistinct whine in complaint. He responded with a muffled laugh.

Still, he thankfully didn’t tease her much longer, moving his hands to gently part her sopping folds, giving him a full view of where she ached for him most.

“You’re this wet already?” he moaned against her thigh. “For me?”

“God, how could I not be this wet for you?” she managed to respond. “Why would you even—“

She would have said “doubt it”, but the last of her response was lost in a breathy gasp when he started circling her clit with his thumb. After taking a moment to enjoy her reaction, he leaned in to lick a broad stripe from her sopping opening to her clit, replacing his thumb with his talented tongue.

Even now he couldn’t stop being a tease, working her up by slowly circling the sensitive bud before wrapping his lips around it and sucking lightly. It felt heavenly, but was just light enough, just on the edge of what she needed, that it only wound her up even more. It wasn’t long until she was gripping his hair and pressing him to her, shamelessly begging for more, oh more, please, Patrick! and bucking her hips up to chase her pleasure. He had to shift his arm so that one hand pressed down on her, holding her hips in place so he could keep pleasuring her.

Even she was surprised at how wanton she sounded, but it was completely genuine—those women in his porn films weren’t faking it for sure, she knew now. She could feel him smile against her, obviously taking pride in her intense reaction. God, he was so smug, but at the same time he clearly had the right to be! Thankfully he took mercy on her, finally giving her the pressure and speed she needed. 

He moved the hand from her hip to tease her opening with his fingers. Sera begged him to put them inside, and he effortlessly slipped two fingers into her sopping pussy. He immediately crooked them forward, finding her g-spot and causing her to unleash another embarrassingly wanton moan. He matched that with his own, the delicious vibrations adding to the stimulation.

Her release was approaching fast under his expert attention, and she wanted to watch him make her fall apart. She leaned up on her elbows enough to look down at him, heat coursing through her as he met her eyes. However, another motion in the peripheral vision caught her gaze, as did the slight jostling of his shoulder under one of her legs. Holy shit, Patrick had clearly recovered his erection at some point because he was now furiously jacking himself off.

At that moment Sera wanted nothing more than to beg him to fill her, to thrust that gorgeous cock deep into her aching cunt, but the intense work of his clever tongue and talented fingers stole her ability to speak. She couldn’t even beg as her release built and built, his ministrations relentless.

She hit her peak in silence, clenching around his fingers and digging her hands into his fluffy hair, the sensations too intense to even let her scream. Immediately after that first intense peak, however, she couldn’t stop moaning his name and babbling out praises as he worked her through the aftershocks. He turned his head and moaned her name into the soft skin of her inner thigh as he came, making a mess on the floor. She ran her fingers gently through his hair, petting him as he trembled from the intense finish.

Thanks to her time at the studio, she knew what he needed next. She moved over on the bed, patting the space next to her in clear invitation. He quickly joined her, scooping her into his arms and holding her close.

“You’ve been paying attention, I see,” he broke the silence, lightheartedly pointing out their situation.

“Everyone in the studio knows you’re a cuddler, Patrick,” she shot back with a smile, “And a damn good one too.” She snuggled into his warm embrace, savoring the moment.

“And, you’re alright, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“That was…intense. And also not in your job descritption…”

“It was great. And I was the one who suggested it, remember?”

That seemed to soothe his concerns.

“It’s such a chore getting pleasured by a gorgeous man, who knows exactly what he’s doing, after all,” she continued, exaggerating the sarcasm in her voice for effect. That earned her a sunshine-incarnate smile and an adorable giggle as he shyly buried his face into her neck, blushing. Dear god, this man had probably set some sort of record for giving women very real, very intense orgasms on camera, but he still got shy over compliments!

Not wanting to push him into genuine discomfort with her praises, she settled for simply laying there in his arms, petting his increasingly-disheveled hair. He gently ran his fingers through her hair as well, and the overall effect was so relaxing she had to fight to keep from actually drifting off to sleep in the goddamn storage room.

The atmosphere was shattered when Sera’s phone started buzzing, discarded somewhere on the floor in her jeans pocket.

“Ah, we should probably clean up,” she suggested, reluctantly extracting herself from his embrace to search for that annoying electronic.

“Yeah, probably.” He seemed just as reluctant to leave the bed. “You know where the showers are, if you want to use them. Sorry I don’t have a change of clothes for you…”

“Patrick, it’s fine,” she reassured him. “This all just sort of… happened.”

“In a good way?”

“Of course in a good way, silly!” He had to be intentionally trying to make her laugh now, right? No way could he question himself that much. “You need my help around here first?”

“Nah, go ahead and take the shower. I can handle packing up here, then hit the shower after.”

As Sera made her way to the bathroom, she checked her phone messages to see what the fuss had been about. There was one new voicemail in her inbox.

“Hey Sera, it’s me, Nancy! Remember how Jenn couldn’t make the Patrick Stump concert last time? Well now that she’s better, I got us more tickets so she can finally see a show! And yes I mean us as in ALL of us. You too! No more avoiding it, you HAVE to see this guy’s concert. No ifs, ands, or buts! It’s on Halloween, wear a costume!”

Great. They really were determined to drag her to see a show by this dude they were all thirsting over. Who shared a first name with the guy who’d just given her the most intense orgasm of their life. And they’d interrupted her cuddle time with him! While she was annoyed by their timing, she couldn’t exactly be mad at them. After all, it would be a nice concert with friends and, apparently, some pretty good music. What could go wrong?


	7. PornTrick: Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prequel to the rest of the series, showing a steamy Warped Tour hookup that eventually gave Patrick the idea to try porn...

_He doesn’t usually do this—and I’m a lucky girl_ were the closest things to coherent thoughts Cori could form in her current situation. The situation being: that she was currently leaned up against the side of the FOB tour bus, behind the scenes at Warped Tour 2005, one leg thrown over the shoulder of a certain ginger-haired lead singer as he enthusiastically ate her out.

It had all happened in a whirlwind. She’d been up front at their set, and the energy had been _incredible_ , the crowd and the band clearly feeling it. It had seemingly sparked something in Patrick as well—as the set drew to a close, he’d locked eyes with her in the crowd. When she’d run into him shortly after, well… to say things had gotten heated quickly was an understatement. He’d barely taken time to ask her name. Next thing she’d known, she was pushed up against the side of the bus, and he’d dropped to his knees in front of her. After getting her permission, he wasted no time in lifting her skirt, shoving her panties to the side, and parting her folds with his tongue.

He didn’t have a reputation of hooking up with groupies, she knew. Part of the reason she liked the band so much was their outspoken respect for women. One might think this would have diminished that standing somewhat, but oh _god_ , quick hookup or not, the way his mouth was working her clit was anything BUT disrespectful.

Despite the fact that anyone could walk by at any moment, she couldn’t hold back her moans. She dug her fingers into his long ginger mane, knocking his hat askew. He moaned into her, the vibrations stimulating her further as he slipped two fingers into her pussy. It took him a second to find the rhythm between his tongue and his fingers, but once he did, Cori had to use one hand to quiet her cries of pleasure as she came, drenching his hand and face with her arousal.

“You alright?” he asked as he rose to his feet, noticing her dazed expression.

“Holy _shit_ , yes,” was her breathless reply as she leaned against the bus, raking him over with her eyes, shamelessly settling on eyeing the generous tent in the front of his baggy jeans. “ _Fuck_ , please tell me that there’s an available bed nearby.”

“You… you want to continue?”

He sounded almost humorously unsure for a guy who’d just given her incredible oral. She stepped towards him, nibbling at his neck and cupping him through his pants.

“Of course… I want a chance at _this,_ ” she whispered in his ear, punctuating her statement with a squeeze of his trapped cock—he moaned and she noticed how _massive_ he felt in her hand already. “And I don’t know how you feel, but I think things will go better if we aren’t so close to being charged with public indecency.”

He practically growled with arousal as he swept her through the bus door and led her to his bunk. She wasted no time throwing her shirt and bra aside, eager to be naked as quickly as possible. She was halfway through taking off her skirt when she noticed Patrick just standing there, looking a bit stunned and frustratingly fully clothed.

“Well, aren’t you going to join me?” she asked playfully, sliding her hands just under the hem of his shirt. Despite everything, he seemed somehow stunned to have a nude woman pawing at him. With a quick nod, he removed his shirt, and, having forgotten he was still wearing a hat with all the distraction, knocked that aside as well.

She was quick to pull him to her then, kissing him hard and raking her hands down his chest, attempting to dispel his apparent sudden attack of nerves. She undid his belt buckle and made quick work of his fly. After a soft “may I?” between sloppy kisses and a breathless “yes” from him, she reached in to finally grasp his swollen cock while pushing his jeans down his hips.

“Goddamn, you’re hung like a fucking _porn star_ ,” she moaned out as she started stroking him.

“Uh, th-thanks?” he managed to stutter out as Cori continued her explorations, circling her thumb over his tip as her other hand cupped his balls. “I know I’m a bit above average but I’m not sure about… oh _fuck_ babe…”

He lost his intended sentence as she took him into her mouth. She went slow at first; he knew it was probably for practical reasons, with her judging how much of him she could comfortably take, but it had the added effect of absolutely _torturing_ him. He held his hips as still as he could, doing his best not to fuck into her mouth. He didn’t want to overwhelm her, but he also wanted to keep some control of himself, to not have this end too early. In his unfortunately under-confident brain, his situation alone—having a hot woman suck him off in the tour bus after she’d so graciously let him eat her pussy—was fast driving him towards climax.

He gently tugged at her hair to give her the hint to slow down. As she let him go with a *pop*, she smirked up at him. “So, you want more than my mouth?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow. Her confidence masked her extreme nerves at getting _this fucking lucky_. Plus, it was extra cute that this super hot porn-worthy rock star was being so shy and sweet. It didn’t seem to be an act either. Patrick couldn’t bring himself to form intelligent words so he just nodded “yes”.

“Well then,” she continued, lying back on the bunk, legs spread. “What way do you want me?”

The tour bus bunk didn’t exactly give the most space for creative positions. Patrick fished around in a nearby drawer and found a condom, rolling it on before joining her on the bed in what he feared was an unsexy and clumsy display. Cori found it quite the opposite, eyes fixed on him as the mattress dipped beneath him as he climbed atop her.

“Let me know if anything’s uncomfortable—I don’t want to hurt you.” He settled between her legs, guiding his cock to her entrance.

“ _Fuck_ , I’m ready,” she keened, shifting her hips toward him, begging to be filled. He pushed forward then, slowly and gently as he could. God, he felt every bit as huge as he’d looked; she could feel every inch as her walls stretched to accommodate him, her dripping slick easing his entry.

He murmured sweet nothings and praises into her ear as he did his best to hold still, waiting for her to adjust, ready to pull out at the slightest hint of discomfort. Even if this was just a heat-of-the-moment hookup and their only time together, he wanted her to have the best memories of him possible.

Cori wasted no time in urging him to move, wrapping her legs around his hips as he set a slow pace in an attempt to prolong their pleasure. He braced himself on one arm over her, using the other to explore her—first tracing her collar bone before dipping to cup one breast, thumb teasing her nipple. God, the way he was looking at her too! It was so intense, like he was doing his best to be a quick study and figure out what she liked—or possibly even commit her to memory. 

She looked her fill as well, shamelessly returning his gaze and exploring him with her hands, feeling the firm muscles in his strong arms, sweeping over his broad shoulders, raking her nails down his back. Finally, she settled on burying her hands in his long red mane as she pulled him down for a passionate kiss.

When she shifted her hips to better meet his thrusts, Patrick took the hint and picked up the pace. She keened his name, arching her back as he managed to hit _just_ the right angle.

“That good?” he breathlessly asked her. She couldn’t quite determine if he was incredulous that she was enjoying this so much, or if he was merely checking that she was actually enjoying this as much as him. Either way, her answer was the same—an equally breathless “yes”, followed by a “Please, keep going!”

He buried his face in her neck then, keeping the wonderfully rough pace of his hips. Damn, he seemed a little unsure, maybe a little unpolished in his technique, but damn if he couldn’t use his cock as well as his tongue. Before long, Cori felt herself hurtling towards yet another climax.

“Patrick, I’m close!” she warned him between panting breaths, reaching down to play with her clit to help finish herself off.

“Same here, babe, I…” Whatever he’d planned to say was lost as he came, hips pressed against hers, moaning in pleasure. The twitch of his cock inside her, the look of erotic ecstasy on his face, and one last pass of her fingers over her clit hurled her over the edge with him, leaving them a sweaty, panting mess as they clung to each other in the aftershocks.

Things were predictably a bit awkward in the aftermath. Patrick disposed of the condom and helped her clean up with a warm washcloth from the tour bus bathroom. They also helped each other retrieve their various scattered clothing items from around the floor.

“So…I take it you enjoyed, uh, everything?” he asked, handing over her skirt.

“You mean the concert, or the sex?” she teased as she tossed him his shirt back (which was in fact one of many he’d already had thrown on the floor…hmm, perhaps he wasn’t so great with his laundry…).

“Uh, um, both I guess?” Was that a blush coloring his cheeks?

“Well, the set was _awesome_. I think everyone in the crowd was feeling the energy from that one! And as for the sex… _damn_. Ok, I usually wouldn’t stroke a guy’s ego like this, but you could seriously have a second career in porn.”

“Wh…what?? Really??” he stuttered out with genuine confusion, face definitely going beet red now.

“Yeah, no shit. You seriously know how to show someone a good time. Plus, come on, how have you not noticed your own dick by now? You’re definitely hung like a porn star, at any rate. God, I hope the whole band thing keeps going, but should the worst happen, you’ve got a solid second career there.”

“Well, then, uh, thank you. I guess. You’re pretty good yourself, although I’m not sure if it’s a compliment to suggest porn or not…” he said with an awkward smile. She laughed it off and they finished helping each other dress. After checking that the coast was clear so nobody would see her “scandalously” leaving his tour bus (especially after their earlier risky endeavors outside), Cori and Patrick went their separate ways.

He didn’t quite forget what she’d told him, though. It was one of the more unique compliments he’d gotten after all. And even though it was said in jest, that whole idea of “if the band doesn’t work out, there’s always porn” never fully left his mind.

A few years down the line, when things did seem bleak and the band had seemingly collapsed, he knew there was one more thing he wanted to try…


End file.
